Never Fear the Shadows
by story2tell
Summary: Harry has been missing for twelve years. Sent on a easy mission to the states, Remus and Sirius suddenly find themselves thrust into the middle of chaos. Can they overcome evil and finally be the family they were meant to be? AU NO SLASH/ Contains abuse
1. Harry Potter?

**Hello folks! If you have read this story before and have gone back to reread this first chapter: thank you for bearing with me! If this is your first time, I just want to warn you that this chapter is a rewrite and will not exactly flow cohevsively with the rest of the story. So thank you for bearing with me as well! Hope you enjoy this revamp because I enjoyed writing it!**

When a child turns thirteen, it's supposed to be considered an accomplishment. It's like life handing over an award that says '_Congratulations, you're finally on your way to adulthood, but first: enjoy the bumpy ride!'_ It is well known that the teen years are nothing to be laughed at. They always come with a rush of confusing emotions, strange body changes, and a host of other problems. But Harry Potter's aunt and uncle did nothing to recognize this accomplishment nor had they offered any advice for this confusing time. They didn't even tell him to 'buckle up'. The days of hoping for a single nod or kind word from his relatives were long gone and Harry certainly wasn't expecting a birthday present of any sort. Though his name had appeared up on the mornings announcements at school that day, nothing more had been said. But, of course, Harry was used to it by now. Still, just the biting fact that he was purposefully ignored sent a painful feeling rumbling through his gut. A feeling of rejection, neglect, and just plain old hurt. Harry's relatives rarely cared about anything that concerned their nephew unless it pertained to Harry burning their dinner.

"You sure you don't need a ride, kid?" Coach Barton called to Harry as he walked towards him. The older man shouldered his oversized duffle bag and paused next to the thirteen-year-old boy. Harry nodded once, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He heard his soccer coach sigh and knew that the man was thinking fast. Harry clenched his fists in anxiety. But then Barton shifted and Harry felt a hand squeeze his shoulder once before the coach continued past him and towards the parking lot. Harry watched him until he had gotten in his car and pulled out of the parking lot, giving Harry a honk of his horn as he drove past, leaving Harry all alone on the deserted soccer field. Harry felt sufficiently downtrodden at that moment.

Time went by and with each passing hour, Harry grew more and more despondent.

Maybe it was just the mood of how the day was turning out. He was standing outside shivering uncontrollably in the icy fall rain, still in his black uniform with mud splattered all over his thin frame. His soccer game had ended nearly three hours ago, his team had won and the celebration had been short but plenty cheerful. There had been food, drinks, and cake afterwards and Harry had eaten his fill—something that wasn't a regular occurrence for him. But that time was over and Harry was freezing and hungry, waiting for a ride he suspected would never come.

He had contemplated walking the eight mile trek into town and then finding a phone to use to call and beg his relatives for a ride but his left leg was throbbing so badly that he decided to just plop down in the mud; he was already covered in it so it didn't make much of a difference. The pain of his leg had been forgotten in the adrenaline of the game but now had come back full force. He gingerly touched the small wrapping of gauze that bandaged the skin just below his knee and let out a hiss of pain. It was where his uncle had stabbed him with a small kitchen blade; a splotch of dark red showed through. Nobody had asked about it, nobody had cared.

It had been the result of a one-sided argument over a broken vase. It had been his cousin who did it, but Harry had been the one blamed—just like in everything else. Tension was always running high in the Dursley household, his relatives had been screaming and his cousin was laughing to himself in the corner of the room and then it had all been a blur to Harry. One minute he was standing and then the next he was one the floor, his leg exploding with pain and the blood, dark and red, pooling in the cracks of the tile beneath him.

It wasn't really a big deal. It had been an accident, of course. Harry was sure that his uncle hadn't meant for things to get so out of control though it always seemed to anyways. But it still hurt a lot. Harry tilted his head back and closed his eyes against the rain. That hadn't been the first time things had gotten wildly out of control and Harry was sure it wasn't going to be the last, but that was life, that was his normal. And his normal was pretty complicated.

Harry was small for his age, but unbelievably fast when it came to running. When he smiled, which was really quite rare, he became a very handsome boy with high cheekbones and startling, somewhat exotic, emerald eyes. A child of few words but stubborn in a silent way, Harry was not popular among the children who like to run and play, he preferred a quiet corner away from the crowd to assure he wouldn't be picked on by his whale of a cousin. Besides the fact of being somewhat of an outcast, he always ended up being a marvel the first few days of school for the new kids because of his British accent and different words; the American kids constantly demanded him to 'say something' just to hear his accent. But once they understood that Harry wasn't going to oblige to their whims, the kids would move on and he would once again return to his life of solitude.

Harry wasn't always the best at making friends. He was too quiet and his eyes were too intense for a child his age. And whenever Harry was around, strange things happened.

Whenever he was really upset, angry, or even just plain sad, things out of the norm seemed to happen, things that everyday people wouldn't exactly call ordinary. One time, his cousin and his little gang were chasing him; Harry only meant to jump over the trashcans, but instead he ended up on the lower roof of Heywood Elementary School. Not exactly the place you would want to be if you wanted to remain in the teachers' good graces.

Harry had gotten in a lot of trouble for the incident even though he had tried to explain that he hadn't meant to end up on the roof but he had gotten into even more trouble for lying. And that incident was only the icing on the cake; a minuscule thing that had happened in the course of his short life. Harry himself couldn't explain exactly how these things happened but he had come to reluctantly accept it because things didn't seem as though they were going to change any time soon.

Weird happenings just seemed to follow him; things that included objects exploding, changing colors, people flipping upside down, hair growing at a phenomenal rate, floating flames, moving objects, and stopping objects. He had been goalie once for his soccer team and had somehow managed to block what would have been the winning point for the other team while not even touching the ball. Though his coach had been ecstatic, the other team accused him of cheating and he played forward center from then on.

Though Harry hated the rain, well, _standing_ in the rain with nothing but shorts and a tee-shirt, it could be considered fate that he happened to be standing there, at that time, on that day when a certain beat up Toyota decided to chug past.

* * *

_*****Sirius Black_

Sirius Black was not a patient man a seemingly opposite of Remus Lupin who could be considered a very patient man. But this was not the case; Remus was just better at hiding his impatience than his black-haired friend. "This is ridiculous," Sirius spoke so loud that it seemed as though everyone in line turned to stare. He was not a man of quiet words; he believed that if you had something to say, you might as well say it for the whole world to hear.

Remus, who completely disagreed with this notion, sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was one of the moments when it became really hard for him to hide his impatience.

"Really—is this what Americans call fast food?"

More people were looking their way and muttering amongst themselves, some looking insulted and some looking as though they wanted to approach the two and say a few choice words of their own. "Sirius!" Remus gritted between his teeth, shifting somewhat nervously in his spot. He glanced at the surrounding people, "When you're in a different country, it's best not to insult those who live there." He hoped his low voice would give Sirius the hint to lower his as well.

One of the cashiers noticed the commotion and approached them from behind the counter. She smiled sweetly at them, "Can I help you, sir?" asked the young girl with small brown eyes and a freckled face; she fluttered her eyelashes at Sirius as she leaned over the counter towards him, giving him a clear view of her chest. Sirius usually had that effect on women and Remus had gotten somewhat used to it but had always been somewhat jealous of Sirius' magnetic charisma.

Sirius wasn't fazed. "Yes, I've been waiting well over twenty bloody minutes since I've ordered my food. What kind of establishment are you running?"

Remus turned away from the little fiasco to look out the window and stare at the watery world of the little town of Troy, Ohio. He had come to realize how much fascination these American girls had for British accent and though Sirius had used it to his complete advantage, it made Remus uncomfortable. He wasn't used to the attention, especially since people tended to ignore men like him who constantly looked underfed, sickly, and worn down. But these foreign girls seemed to overlook that all together just for his accent. At first, it had been somewhat amusing and made him feel wanted but as the week had dragged on it was now just plain annoying.

He hadn't been to the states since he was a young boy going to visit his cousin and he had been in New York then, enjoying the wonders of Broadway and the confusion of Manhattan. But this hadn't been a vacation for Sirius or Remus. The Order of the Phoenix had gotten word of a band of wanna-be Death Eaters gathering together a small circle in this cozy little town, meeting regularly and wrecking small amounts of havoc on the seemingly clueless muggles. Both former marauders had been chosen to silence the group—a very un-noteworthy task and a quite simple one at that. Their mission was over quickly and Sirius had insisted that they stopped at this Troy McDonalds before using their port key to return to London overseas.

A flash of black hair caught his peripheral vision and in a knee-jerk motion, Remus looked to his right to see a young thin boy studying the display of Happy Meal toys. His unkempt black hair sent Remus' heart pounding frantically. Hopefully he reached out his hand, but just as he was about to touch the young boy's shoulder, the child turned and glared at Remus with blue-gray eyes and a scrunched up piggish nose that was heavily freckled, apparently startled to see a stranger hovering over him.

"I'm sorry", Remus spoke quickly, hoping not to attract attention from any adults with the fear of being labeled as the British Pedophile. "I mistook you for somebody else." The young boy's face immediately brightened.

"Are you from London?" he asked excitedly, his grin revealing that his two front teeth were missing. "Cause you have the same accent as the people from the Muppet Christmas Carol!"

"Muppet—what?" Remus asked in confusion.

"Aidan!" a motherly voice called out over the small crowd, "Come eat your nuggets before they get cold, young man!"

The boy named Aidan hurriedly obeyed, and due to Remus' acute sense of hearing, he was able to hear the scolding the boy received for talking to strangers. "But _mom_," the boy whined, "He was _British_!" As if that made all the difference in the world.

"Oi! Earth to Moony, here're your French fries", Sirius tossed the takeout bag towards Remus who caught it against his chest.

Remus glared at the taller man. "Thanks you prat," he said in a sarcastic miffed voice, still not over the fact that he had thought that little boy had been Harry Potter. Just the name sent a deep sadness coursing through him like a slow moving poison. He shivered slightly and pushed down the emotion with a well-practiced hand. This wasn't the time or the place.

Instead of answering back with a witty comment, Sirius looked at him closely, "Hey, are you all right? You just got really white there."

"It's nothing," Remus muttered, swallowing a couple times, doing his best to regain his composure, and just because he felt the need to blame something, he grumbled: "I hate the rain."

Sirius barked out a laugh, which was the usual answer he gave to anything he didn't understand. Remus pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head and both he and Sirius sprinted across the parking lot to their brown Toyota. They were headed for the country, where there awaited a Red Roof Inn; and then, after a good night's rest, the portkey would take them home.

"I wish it was possible to just apparate," Sirius had complained earlier. Remus, being the patient man he sometimes forced himself to be for the sake of sanity, sighed and gave Sirius a condescending look of pity.

"Sure we can apparate, Sirius. Who cares if we are thousands of miles across the ocean? Who cares that, with that much time and space for error, we'd likely be splinched as we land in shark infested waters?"

Sirius had chuckled at Remus' melodramatic words and ended up forgetting his distaste over portkeys.

"So", Sirius broke their silence and looked over at Remus from the passenger seat. Remus had outright refused to let the animagus drive, he could only imagine all the damage Sirius would make if he had been given the right of the wheel. "You gonna tell me what happened back there?"

Remus reflexively tightened his fists around the steering wheel. "I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his eyes on the road, half a French fry poking out of one corner of his mouth.

"Course you do," said Sirius, taking a long draw from his soda, "With that boy over by the toys."

Remus felt a flush of crimson spread across his face. He spoke haltingly: "You noticed that?"

Sirius let out a barking laugh before saying: "Of course I did."

Remus tightened his eyes in a grimace, steeling himself for Sirius' reaction. "From behind, I thought, well…he sort of looked like Harry would have…" Remus felt instantly embarrassed for admitting that.

A cold silence washed over the car.

"Harry?" Sirius echoed in a hollow and emotionless voice, his previous humor forgotten. He suddenly became a different man, a man who had just been released from Azkaban with haunted eyes and paper white skin.

"Bloody Merlin", Remus mentally kicked himself. "I know—it's stupid—but I'll always have that little bit of hope in the back of my mind. Who knows, maybe he's still out there and we just don't know."

"Remus, don't," Sirius said sullenly. "He's been missing for thirteen years."

"Yeah, missing, but they've never found a body! How hard is it to find a missing child? Someone has to be hiding something. Maybe Dumbledore—"

"Can we talk about something else?" Sirius interrupted, his face pale and tense.

There was a moment of silence where Remus struggled to bite back a sarcastic comment before he huffed a humorless laugh, unable to help himself. "Sure, whatever _you_ want."

Sirius bristled like a defensive dog, crumbling his burger wrapper in his hand. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Well obviously it's something or you wouldn't be acting like bloody toe rag."

"You know what, Sirius?" Remus started, his temper rising. "All these years I had to deal with your mood swings and break downs and flying off the handle tempers and I took it all in stride. I comforted you, I assured you, and I was always there to make sure you didn't fully lose it. And now, when I want to vent and blow off some steam, you cut me off and tell me not to talk about it anymore."

Sirius, who had sat listening to this in silence, sat back and rolled his eyes. "Merlin, you are _such_ a girl."

Remus' temper flared to a full blaze. "Oh yeah? Well, you're a selfish hypocrite with psychotic tendencies. "

"I'm not doing this with you, Remus. You come across so 'holier than thou', it's giving me indigestion, and I want to enjoy my food Sirius said with finality, speaking to Remus as though he was no more than just an irritating fly buzzing around his head. "Just pay attention to the road before you get us killed."

Remus heard a buzzing in his ears and his blood pressure skyrocketed. The wolf within him reared angrily, how dare Sirius speak to him as though he was just an annoying child?_ Control_. He willed himself, knowing if he let his emotions get any more out of whack, he'd snap the steering wheel. _Control. Control. Control._

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked in a somewhat patronizing tone after several minutes of tense silence.

Remus gritted his teeth but offered no answer. He swiped his hand at the knob and the windshield wipers turned on full blast.

"Look, Remus, 'm sorry. I was a bit of a tosser so…"

Remus banged his fist on the steering wheel, the car swerved somewhat precariously, making Sirius' face tinge green. "All these years, all I ever was _was calmness! _I was always the one comforting you, assuring you, making sure you did not fully lose it! It is my turn now!" he declared, much as one would a declaration of war. He turned his face to glare at Sirius. "I should be allowed a breakdown at least once in my life!"

"REMUS, LOOK OUT!"

A body, an explosion; someone was standing in the middle of the road. Remus slammed the brakes, praying to all God's mercy that he wouldn't become a murderer tonight.

In a disarray of strange blue, green, and bloody red colors all swirling together, the car lurched to a stop as did the passengers against their seat restraints. Remus smacked his head on the wheel and slumped forward, knocked out.

The lights vanished and they were left sitting in a quiet, rainy night, gasping and shaking.

* * *

_***A half hour earlier******_

Harry was feeling cold and sick. After coming to the conclusion that his relatives weren't coming to pick him up, he had sought out refuge in one of the plastic play tubes on the playground meters away from the field, thinking it would be safer and maybe a bit warmer as he rode out the worsening storm. He climbed into the tube and attempted to wipe away the small puddles of water that had formed before settling down. It was uncomfortable, but better than standing out in the pouring rain.

Carefully straightening his throbbing leg, Harry pressed a hand over his wound for several minutes as he tried to starve off some of the pain. When the ache had eased slightly, he laid back again and heaved a deep sigh.

_Bloody hell! _he thought, his teeth chattering from the cold. His clothes were soaking wet and his hair was dripping rivulets down his face and neck. _This is a load of bollocks! God, I hate my relatives; they're such pricks. Why couldn't they have just come and got me? We had a deal! Probably hoping I freeze to death or get hit by lightning or something. That would sure make their day. _Harry closed his eyes and shivered, feeling miserable. This was just like his aunt and uncle to pull something like this.

Harry started as a flash of lightening zigzagged across the sky followed by a long, rumbling boom of thunder. The sudden rush of wind sent rain spraying into the tube, soaking Harry even more. He let out a groan and dropped his face into his knees, clenching his hair in his fists. His head was beginning pulse with a dull ache.

_I should've just walked. _He thought to himself. _Too late now._ Harry removed what was left of his jacket and twisted it to remove the excess water. He put it back on and sighed again. _In the morning I will._

_Bloody hell, it's cold._

Harry hugged himself for warmth and closed his eyes in an attempt to at least get a bit of rest. He was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep but his pounding head urged him to at least try. If he could just close his eyes and drift a bit, maybe the night would pass by faster.

A loud crash of thunder and a brilliant vein of lightening turned the insides of his eyelids blood red. Harry's eyes snapped open as another strobe of white lightening etched itself into the sky, turning everything white around him.

His heart stopped, stuttered, and then began to thump so hard that he felt that his ribs would start rattling. For a brief moment, the silhouette of a large person had been outlined against the garish plastic tube.

Harry was frozen with fear; eyes wide and straining, mouth suddenly too dry. He waited, holding his breath, trying to hear even the slightest noise. The only thing he could hear though, was the whoosh of rain and wind, the rumble of thunder in the distance, and the thumping of his heart echoing in his ear.

He waited, trying hard not to breathe, his eyes darting left and right in the gray gloom. As the minutes dragged on his heartbeat began to slow and Harry figured that his mind was just playing tricks on him. Being out in the middle of a stormy night it was easy to get frightened he supposed.

Harry drew in a deep gulp of air and swallowed hard before allowing his body to relax into a less tense state, he couldn't close his eyes though. He dug his fingers into the flesh of his arm, trying to force himself to stay awake; What if there really was someone out there? A hobo? An escaped asylum patient? Maybe even a psychotic murderer. Harry pinched himself hard for thinking like that, _Come on, Harry. Don't be such a pansy; you're just imagining all this stuff._

Another ten minutes of silent reasoning with himself and Harry's eyes started to droop. He leaned his head back and pulled his knees in closer to his chest for better warmth. He could hear the rain beginning to slow and the thunder was now only a low rumble, Harry hoped it would get warmer now that the worst was moving past.

At first, Harry thought it was a lingering white spot in his vision from a blinding vein of lightning, but when the ball of light remained and began to move on its own accord Harry felt a twinge of panic.

_Oh God, is that a flashlight?!_ With his heartbeat thudding in his ears, Harry reacted on instinct. He scrambled towards the opening of the play tube, breathing fast and harsh, ready to make a run for it.

But a man was waiting for him, robed in black, his face the color of wax and his eyes dark as pitch. He grinned at Harry, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"What do we have here?" he spoke in a slow and calculating voice as if each word he said was carefully thought out. He gestured with an outstretched hand, "Come here," he said with a calm, almost soothing tone, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to sneak up on someone on a dark and stormy night.

The man gestured again, "Come here," he repeated firmly. "Let me help you."

Harry remained frozen, chest heaving, fear plastered on his face, one hand pressed flat against the rounded side of the tube and the other stretched behind him.

"Why are you so frightened my dear little muggle?"

"Muggle?" Harry shook his head roughly, "I don't—I don't what you're talking—talking about—"

The man grinned again, almost sympathetically, "I wouldn't expect you to". He stared at Harry with wide, pitiless eyes, "Are you all alone here?"

With that question, Harry scrambled backwards, slipping in the tiny pools of water that had formed. Anyone who ever asked that sort of question, whether it be in broad daylight or a stormy night such as this, should be labeled a creep and/or dangerous.

"Not so fast boy," the man grabbed Harry's foot and yanked him back.

"No!" Harry yelled. He desperately tried to grab at the seam of the tube but only succeeded in bloodying the tips of his fingers on the rusted nails jutting of the two pieces of plastic. "Why are you out here during a storm? Did you run away from home?"

"No—I swear—GE'—OFF!" Harry's voice came out in a strangled yell. Why was this happening? Why was this man even bothering with him? All Harry knew was at that moment, something was terribly wrong and if he didn't do anything fast, something bad was going to happen.

If there was anything to say about Harry, it was that he was one hell of a fighter.

Harry's free foot shot out in a sharp quick jab and struck the man dead center in the face. He felt the flesh give and tear beneath his spiked cleat and Harry was pretty sure he heard bone break.

The man gave a horrible cry of pain and instantly released Harry to clutch his face.

Harry scrambled back and leapt from the tube, grabbing a hold of the monkey bars. He used his momentum to swing forward as far as he could before vaulting himself through the air. He hit the mulch and rolled several times before scrambling to his feet without missing a single beat. He had had plenty of practice from 'Harry Hunting' and he was a master at escaping for he was quick on his feet and left little room for hesitation.

Behind him, Harry could hear the man bellow with rage. Not daring to waste even a second to look back, Harry raced across the park and swung up a robe ladder. Once he got to the top, he turned to spare a glance behind.

The man wasn't far behind him and even in the stormy gloom, Harry could see pure rage on his face. Harry's heart gave a wild leap of terror. He tore across the jungle gym, and over the rickety plastic bridge. He stumbled up a step and continued up winding stairs; passing graffiti and loose pieces of trash plastered to the wooden gym. He looked back once more and saw nothing. Once at the very top of the tower he fell against the low wall, grabbing his throbbing leg. His hand came away bloodied; he quickly ripped off a long piece of his tattered jacket and tied it tight around his bleeding wound with a wince. He removed his glasses and tried to wipe off the streaks, but with the continued drizzle of the rain, there really didn't seem a point.

"You little fucker!" came a voice from not far below. Harry chanced a look over the gym and met eyes with his follower; the man had blood running from both nostrils and looked very angry.

Jerking back, Harry looked at the slide and then the monkey bars connecting to the next jungle gym. Knowing the bars would be slick with moisture, Harry decided quick and climbed on top the bars and crawled as fast as he could along them.

"Hey!" The man screamed behind him, startling Harry so much that his right hand slipped and he fell forward and busted his chin on a bar. White spots danced in his vision, but he managed not to fall. He spat out a mouthful of blood and twisted back up and with a start saw that the stranger was waiting for him on the other side. _What the—_

"I'm tired of these games, muggle!" he shouted at Harry with a malicious grin.

"What do you want from me?!" Harry demanded, trying to sound braver than he felt.

The man gave no answer; instead, he reached inside his robes.

_A gun!_ Harry thought in uncontrollable fear.

But no—he revealed a long, thin stick. He pointed it Harry and screamed out a nonsensical word. An auburn light shot towards him. In pure reflex, Harry twisted to one side. Searing heat grazed his cheek and unbelievable pain shot down his neck, making the right side of his body seize. He lost his grip and slipped from the monkey bars, falling six feet, and hitting the mulch hard.

His breath left him and he couldn't draw in any air, he couldn't move, his body twitching in aftershock. _Get up! _His mind screamed at him over and over.

A crunch of mulch and suddenly the man was on top of him. Beefy hands wrapped around his neck. Harry gagged. They struggled, Harry pulling at the man's thick fingers with one hand while using his other to push on the man's face.

_Come on, come on! _Harry thought frantically, and, as if on command, Harry felt a particularly nasty throb pulse up his arm, like fiery needles pushing their way through his muscles. The man let out a deafening shriek of pain and fell on top of Harry, his hand covering his face.

The thirteen-year-old boy inhaled a sharp, life-giving breath. He tried wiggling and squirming in desperation to get out from under the man, adrenaline laced with terror pumped through his veins.

The man recovered too quickly though, grabbed a hand full of Harry's hair, and pinned Harry's head to the mulch. He jabbed that thin stick into Harry's throat, his face wild with anger. "You will pay for that you little—"

The man stopped and stared. He released Harry's hair and used his free hand to smooth the fringe back from Harry's forehead. Harry tensed up, his chest heaving, still squirming. He shook his head hard to be rid of the man's grip on his hair.

The stranger drew back his hand and stuck Harry's face with such force that Harry went limp, the edges of his vision growing dark.

The man pushed back Harry's hair again and leaned in so close that Harry could smell his foul breath. "Where did you get this scar?" he asked softly, lips trembling.

Harry gritted his teeth, mustering up a glare. He tried to shove the man off of him but the stranger didn't budge.

The man's eyes grew angry. He lifted Harry by his shoulders then slammed him back into the ground. Harry's cry cut short when his breath disappeared from his lungs, "_Where_ did you get this scar?".

"Why do you want to know?" Harry yelped in near hysteria, nearly gagging on a mouthful of blood, beginning to struggle once more.

The man's fist stuck the earth next to Harry's face. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT SCAR?!" he roared, giving Harry a violent jerk by the fist in his hair.

"I dunno—!" Harry cried out, using both hands to try to pry the man's hand from his scalp, blinded by tears of pain. "A car crash! It was just a car crash!"

_Smack!_ The man struck Harry again. "DO NOT LIE TO ME, BOY!"

Harry, gasping and shaking, shook his head haphazardly. "I'm not—I—don't know what you're talking about! _What do you want from me_?!"

"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!" He screamed at Harry, spit flying. Then the man drew in a ragged breath and suddenly a strange calm fell over his features. His voice came low and shivering, "I will be greatly rewarded…" The man was elated. His large chest heaved, his face distant, his eyes as wide as marbles.

Taking this moment of distraction, Harry grappled with the mulch, trying to find a weapon. His right hand closed around a stick. He whipped it up instinctually and a blazing blue light filled the night.

"AARRGGGGHHHH!" The man flung himself back, releasing Harry's head. Harry rolled quickly away and jumped to his feet, ready to sprint.

Bad idea.

Agony ripped through his entire body. He hit the ground on hands and knees, crying out in pain. His heart performed back flips in his chest. Black spots swam across his watery vision, but he didn't have time to let the pain subside.

The man was flailing beside him; he grabbed his stick and whirled around to point it at Harry. A purple light blossomed from the tip and it struck the ground next to him, exploding in a shower of earth and purple. Harry caught some of the dots of light and was horrified to find tiny cuts appearing up and down his bared skin.

_Move, move, move…_! Harry gritted his teeth and, steeling himself, he lurched unsteadily to his feet. He ran doggedly; stumbling, staggering, and falling to the ground before getting up and darting to the left, then the right. Oh, why hadn't his relatives picked him up in the first place?

"COME BACK HERE, HARRY POTTER!" The man screamed behind him. Harry pushed himself to go faster, feeling fear like he had never felt before. How did this guy know his name?

Harry could feel the warmth of blood running down his leg, face, neck, and arm. His lungs were burning and his legs wanted to give out. His heart beat like a frantic drum and the side of his body was growing numb from that auburn light that had hit him. But he continued running towards the road, knowing he had no choice.

He stumbled on uneven ground and had to windmill his arms to keep from falling.

Then the man was on him again and they began to struggle and fight. Harry tore at whatever he could. He dug his spiked cleats into the man's legs, hoping to draw blood. Clawing at his face desperately trying to gauge out his eyes or tear off his ears, trying to create any sort of damage whatsoever.

"Leave me alone!" he screamed, dragging clawed hands down the man's face. In retaliation, the stranger struck Harry across the face, pinning Harry's wrist over his head.

"I know who you are, Harry Potter!" he yelled in Harry's face. "Tell me how you did it! HOW DID YOU DEFEAT THE DARK LORD?!"

"You're bloody mad!" Harry cried, drawing on every bit of strength he had to break free.

Finally, his body had had enough of all the stress; Harry suddenly convulsed like a being caught in a seizure. He felt the familiar surge flood his veins and his vision went white hot for a second, every synapse of his body burned within him. This feeling had always happened when something particularly strange happened to him. It was a terrifying feeling to Harry and once it started, there was no way to stop it.

Suddenly the man was gone. Flying and soaring through the air like a dying goose. He was shouting in what sounded like pain, but the sound was cut off almost instantly. He struck the ground at least ten feet away, motionless, now only a muddied lump in the otherwise flat terrain.

For a moment, the only noise was the whooshing of the wind. Harry sat up slowly, feeling the awful urge to cry.

But no, Harry was conditioned to push back such emotions. Shivering, he crawled a few feet, head hanging, trying to lose the numbness of his mind; his whole body hurt, his leg was screaming for relief, his heart throbbed within his chest. He gasped, choking and sucking in air. Nausea rolled in his stomach, sending sweat pouring down his face and his limbs quivered for release. His insides heaved once, twice, before he retched violently on the earthen floor, spewing up the remnants of the celebration that now seemed a lifetime ago.

His vision became cloudy, indistinct, and his head swirled with incoherent thoughts and images.

Suddenly his fingers grazed something—wooden, round, thin…he grasped it and raised it to his face, trying to make out what it was. He studied it for several moments, knowing this was the stick that the man had been using and knowing that it wasn't a stick but something else. How did it work? Magic?

But there was no such thing as magic.

A groan, low and unearthly, startled him from his thoughts. His heart shot to his throat in an attempt to escape the sudden rush of nauseating fear. His fist clenched around the smooth stick instinctively.

Despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, Harry staggered to his feet. Mustering every last bit of strength he had and stashing the stick into the waist band of his shorts, he ran like a bat from hell, his instincts totally animalistic—survival was all that mattered now. He didn't care about the pain threatening to rip off his injured leg, he didn't care that the drizzling rain smeared his glasses and all he could see were swirling indistinct shapes and shadows. All he knew was that he didn't want to stick around to see how the mad the man had gotten.

Living the night was his goal right now.

Harry didn't know how long he ran, but when he finally slowed to a walk the only thing he could register was the pain shooting daggers up and down his leg and the mind-numbing exhaustion spreading from his core to his fingertips. He slowed to a halt and doubled over at the waist, clutching a painful stitch in his side. The rain had completely stopped now, a wispy fog had settled along the road and a dim crescent moon was peeking out from behind gray storm clouds.

It took many long minutes before Harry could breathe normally. He rested his hands on his knees and retched again, his sickness splattered the pavement and spotted his shoes. He stared at it.

_Gross…gross…bugger, this bloody sucks…_

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and slowly straightened. His mouth and throat felt so dry and each breath he took still felt harsh. Harry shivered nonstop, wondering if he had descended into shock because his fear had dwindled away and he only felt empty and cold. He didn't know how much more of this crazy night he could take. He only wanted to lie down, sleep, and just forget everything. He wanted the world to slip away into black oblivion where he could never wake up.

But he couldn't. Harry ran a sticky hand through his hair and studied his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. There were overgrown shrubs and thick forestry on both sides of the road. Even when he squinted, he couldn't see any distant lights from the nearby town and he was sure that he should've at least been able to see hazy light by.

His heart suddenly sank with realization; he had run the wrong direction. He hadn't run towards town but _away _from it! Harry felt as though the ground had dropped out from under him.

How could he be so stupid?

When Harry noticed the twin beams of light heading down the hill, he didn't know if he should wave down the car or hide in the shrubbery behind him. He was exhausted and his nerves were frayed. So, he stared with his mouth slightly open as the red car came closer and closer.

_Stop._ Harry thought, taking one step then another. He was out of the grass and on the gravel, heading towards pavement. _Stop!_

But the car didn't show any signs of slowing down and Harry kept walking until he was in the middle of the road. He stared at the oncoming car, blinded by the headlights, feeling a sudden odd sort of thing in his chest. If they did stop, if they did notice Harry, what would happen? They'd probably insist on taking him to the emergency room. The doctors and nurses would give him suspicious looks from the lies he would make up about what had happened; he would probably say he had gotten into a bad fight with a couple of neighborhood kids, maybe even say that they came out worse than he did and give fake a laugh.

They wouldn't be able to prove any different. Then they would patch him up as best as they could and call his relatives. Uncle Vernon would probably show up purple-faced and mustache twitching, and thus the vicious cycle would begin again.

So what if the car didn't stop? So what if they didn't notice Harry? The universe could go on virtually undisturbed without him. His Aunt and Uncle probably wouldn't even care to put out a search warrant for him.

He just felt so tired. _It's not like there's anybody out there who will miss me._

The instant Harry thought that, he felt another painful surge go through his body. There was an explosion that stunned him to his knees and made his ears pop. The world began to spin. The air around him appeared to melt and drip downward, and the landscape became a watery smear, as though a giant hand were being dragged across a still-wet portrait. Shooting stars traced crazy patterns in the sky, and big dots of multi-colored light rose and fell on the horizon.

Then, like a spinning coin settling, things began to revolve more slowly, and finally ceased moving entirely.

The car was at standstill feet away from him.

Harry felt suddenly drained. He let his body slump the rest of the way to the wet ground, breathing heavily, ignoring the pain that jolted his spine as the back of his head struck pavement.

He was still alive.

* * *

_**************************Remus_

Sirius was shaking him roughly, demanding him to snap out of it and to get a grip. Slowly, sounds became clearer and not a distant buzz. The shapes of the car became sharp once more and he could suddenly smell the rain and dirt outside.

Slowly Remus sat up, rubbing his bruised forehead, his thoughts groggy, and his motions sluggish.

"What the hell was that?" Sirius bellowed, half excited, half alarmed; his wand was out and ready. "Did you see that? Was that some sort of magic? All those colors and that explosion…"

Remus wasn't as impressed with all those colors and explosions.

"I hit someone, didn't I?" Remus moaned. "I killed him, didn't I? Bloody Merlin…" Remus slumped back against the wheel, his head still spinning from his throbbing forehead.

But Sirius was already getting out of the car, his seat belt snapping back as he released it from its lock. The lights automatically came on in the car as soon as Sirius opened the door. From the muted light, Remus made out the form of someone lying on the pavement in front of him. Blinking several times, Remus drew a deep breath, his hand creeping towards the wand hidden under his shirt in case there was something more to the situation than was apparent.

Sirius had dropped down next to a boy who was gasping in heaving breaths. "He wasn't close enough for you to hit, Moony. You didn't hit him with the car at all."

Despite the reassurances that Sirius was giving him, Remus still felt horrible.

"Merlin", Remus breathed, a cold fist of fear and guilt closing around his heart. Never in all his life had Remus ever wanted to cause anyone serious bodily harm (except Voldemort), much less a child. He raised his wand and cast a_ lumos_ for some light. It was a boy on the cusp of manhood; his face was turned away from him and he was wearing some sort of sports uniform.

"Hey, buddy, you all right?" Sirius asked gently as Remus slowly knelt as well, ignoring the immediate dampness he felt going through his pant legs.

"You're going to be all right, we're going to help you. Can you tell us where it hurts?" Remus added soothingly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. The child instantly shuddered at his touch and he suddenly came to life and shot up, eyes wild. Both Sirius and Remus started in surprise.

"Whoa, kid…" Sirius cautioned, but the boy ripped himself away from Sirius' touch.

The boy had scrambled to his feet and away from the light Remus had raised. He had drawn something—maybe a knife, but it was hard to see in the gray-darkness—and was pointing it at Remus and Sirius with a quivering hand.

Sirius looked up at Remus who had frozen, though they couldn't really meet eyes in the dark, Remus could sense the apprehension emitting from his friend. Remus lowered his wand slowly, keeping the light low, hoping that it looked like a flashlight. Sirius slowly raised up his hands in a sign of peace.

"Hey now…we're just trying to help. Nothing more, nothing less…"

"Stay back!" the boy warned hoarsely and Remus noted his English accent, though it was somewhat diluted. "I'll-I'll hurt you!"

"Okay, okay…" Sirius answered. He gave Remus a loaded sidewise glance and Remus gave a very slight nod. "Look kid, we'll give you a ride to wherever you want, no questions asked. We're just a couple of oldies driving home."

No answer. Remus watched the boy's silhouette shift slightly as though he was contemplating this suggestion. Remus took a very small step to the side but the boy noticed the movement and whipped his weapon around towards Remus.

"Don't-Don't—" he warned shakily. "I swear—just leave me be—"

"Expelliarmus!" Remus spoke sharply. The boy gasped as his weapon was ripped from his hand and Remus caught the…wand? "Wha—"

But the boy had sprung away and was running down the road and away from Sirius and Remus.

"It's a wand!" Remus said in shock, holding it up for Sirius to see.

"Death Eater?" asked Sirius, breaking into a run after the boy. "Hey!" he shouted after him.

Remus hurried to keep up, "But he's just a kid!"

"So?" answered the animagus. "We'll just round him up and ask a few a questions."

But the kid was fast for his size and he didn't once look back. Remus aimed a tripping jinx but missed. He cursed and aimed another one. This one hit home and the kid vaulted forward and hit the ground hard, his face smacking pavement.

"Nice one, Moony!" Sirius said breathlessly, holding his side as they slowed to a halt. "Fuck, I hate running." The animagus nudged the boy with his foot, who hadn't yet budged. "Aren't you a little young to be making life changing decisions about joining Dark Lords?"

Remus raised his wand light just as the boy rolled up into a sitting position.

Remus felt as though he had slipped into a dream when there in front of him, stood the reincarnation of James Potter.

Even with the blood and the bruises covering his face, there was no doubt that this could have been his deceased friend's twin. From the jet-black hair to the long nose to the knobby knees, the boy was James' doppelganger…except for those eyes—as green and brilliant as emeralds. "I don't know what you want!" the boy spoke fast, hunched over. "I haven't done anything!"

"Hey now, just calm down…we're just trying to help…" Sirius spoke slowly and carefully. Remus could tell that he, too, had noticed the frightening resemblance.

The boy didn't move, only stared at the two men with wide eyes, his lips paper white and trembling.

"Now," Sirius continued in a somewhat halting voice. "Is-is this your wand?"

A look of confusion flashed over the boy's bloody face but he offered no answer.

Remus looked at his best friend and saw anger cross over the man's face. He crouched down so that he was face to face with the look alike and held the wand up to the boy's face. The boy flinched.

"You know, boy, that I could perform a _prior incantatem _in less than five seconds and see what you've been up to. Been torturing muggles lately?"

Again, the boy said nothing, though the fear was prominent in his eyes. Remus stared at the child, feeling torn. The boy had obviously had a rough night; his face was thin and pale and supported a row of thin, bleeding cuts. Blood was dripping from both nostrils and a livid bruise stood out on his cheek and his bottom lip was puffy. When Remus looked down, he noticed that the boy was clutching a pair of glasses in his hand, the lenses shattered.

Remus felt his heart stop as the pieces of an unsolved puzzle suddenly fell into place. Then he looked back at the boy's face, really looked.

Starling, shocking, familiar emerald green eyes returned Remus' stare, before they wheeled to stare at Sirius in wild, blatant fear. Hair, black as a raven's wing, created an unruly mess on his hair—thin wisps of midnight barely hid a scar. Remus thought he would faint—either from thrill or fright…he wasn't exactly sure yet. He held up the light higher and saw it—the scar was a livid red and raised, its shape that of a lightning bolt.

"Sirius," Remus whispered, his throat feeling too tight to speak.

"There's no point in trying to keep secrets for you little Death Eater friends", Sirius continued, his face menacing. "We'll find out either way."

"Sirius!" Remus interrupted loudly and Sirius jerked around to face him.

"Bloody hell, _what_, Remus?"

"Look at his forehead."

The anger on his friend's face slipped away and a look of perplexity crinkled his eyes. He looked back at the boy and for a moment didn't speak.

Suddenly, the boy spoke: "I don't know what's going on…. that stick, it's not mine—I swear—I took from this guy…he was trying to _kill_ me!"

Remus stared. He sounded just like James: his inflections, his accent. But those eyes…Remus only ever saw those eyes on one other person.

"Someone was trying to kill you?" Remus heard himself speak rather distantly, though alarmed. "Are you sure?"

Those eyes as green as emeralds looked at him while Sirius suddenly found his voice.

"It can't be…no…impossible," he muttered to himself. "Harry…Harry Potter?"

**Hope you liked it! Please review to let me know if you think this is better than the original or if you hate the fact that I am adding changes! Love you all for bearing with me!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I just wanted to let you guys know that I now have a beta reader but she is currently away. So chances are I'll repost this chapter in the near future, I'm just too impatient to wait for her return. Please enjoy and please review because that just makes me work all the more faster.**

_Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark_

***

The woman working as clerk at the front desk in the main lobby of the Red Roof Inn was a rather plain one, indeed. She had a turned up, freckled nose and thin lips. Her gray eyes were small and her blond hair was rather limp and continuously tucked behind her left ear.

Well, for this ordinary woman who normally saw plain, ordinary days in this boring, ordinary hotel was certainly in for a night of her life. It was nearing midnight and the lobby was empty except for the janitor who was methodically sweeping the gray tiled floor.

Kathy Stoley was only paid minimum wage so she felt that she only needed to do minimum wage work. So she sat, with her elbow propped up on the counter making idle doodles on a scrap of note paper, staring unabashedly at the janitor's rear, wishing that he would notice her and invite her out for a drink after work. She never really got that much attention from guys—being that she was outrageously outgoing—not in the fun, loving way—but in an annoying way. She had a way of grinning really close to someone's face, so close that it made that poor soul want to their face away just out of pure reaction.

Now you may be wondering why I writing about this unremarkable woman who worked the graveyard shift four times a week at a tiny hotel in the middle of nowhere, being paid only minimum wage. But don't be too fast to think for it was this woman who caught the first shocking glimpse of the two men who came bursting through the entrance doors in such a fashion that made Kathy jerk, causing the permanent marker she had been using to scribble to erratically run of the page and onto the counter. At the back of her mind, she fretted what she would tell her boss in the morning of how the very noticeable black mark had made it onto the otherwise tidy counter. But that thought was pushed aside as she gaped at the two men striding towards her.

She immediately forgot about the janitor as she laid eyes on the taller man with hair like midnight and eyes like china blue ice. She fluttered her eyelashes in what she thought was flirtatious but in actuality, both men had wondered whether something had gotten something in her eye.

"May I help you?" she asked in a high-pitched voice, leaning over the counter.

It was the other man who answered. "We have a room reserved for Lupin-Black," he spoke hurriedly and Kathy looked at him curiously. He was shorter than the black-haired man but somehow lankier. His hair was the color of wet sand, short and neatly cut. His eyes were a clear color of blue-green flecked with bits of amber. Kathy decided she really like his unique eyes and she also decided that she could probably really like this man as well if he didn't look so worn down and sickly.

But then again, she always wanted a man with a British accent. He looked intelligent too but not nerdy for he didn't wear glasses or a button up shirt. Rather, he had on a pair of dark jeans and an earthy-green, short-sleeved tee-shirt that somehow went really good with his large eyes. She hoped he wasn't gay and dating the man with black hair.

"Ma'am?" he spoke again, his eyebrow furrowing as he frowned. "It's a bit of an emergency."

"What was the name again?" she asked, pushing herself towards the computer.

"Lupin-Black!" the other man demanded in a so much harsher voice than the other one that Kathy looked up, feeling suddenly frightened. That's when she noticed the blood splotching the man and the skinny bundle that he cradled in his arms.

"Oh my god!" She gasped, standing up, her hands dancing frantically about her face in panic. "Do you want me to call 911? What happened? Is he seriously hurt?" Kathy grappled for the phone, not wanting it to be her fault if the seemingly lifeless child died during her shift, only to have it snatched away.

"Shut it, woman and give us our room key!" the black haired man nearly bellowed and Kathy let out an 'eep!' and scurried backwards, eyes wide like saucers. She was short and knobby which was to her advantage at the moment for she was contemplating on whether or not to hide under the counter. She glanced at the janitor and noticed angrily that he wasn't even paying attention as his head bobbed to the music that played through his head phones.

"Sirius!" the shorter man scolded, glancing at the scared woman with pity. "Manners! You're frightening her!" he then turned completely turned towards her and said very gently: "May we please have the key? It's Lupin-Black. There's no need to call an ambulance for we have everything under control. Now, the key please?"

Kathy decided she liked this man so much better and she handed him two hotel keys while looking indignantly at the man named Sirius.

He didn't notice, but instead, he literally charged down the hallway, somewhat like a crazed football player, with the nicer man quickly trailing behind him.

It only took Kathy a second to think it over before she decided to follow.

***

Kathy struggled to remember what the room number was. She never really had a good memory and often found herself forgetting some of the most simple of things. But she needn't fret any longer for she caught sight of two shadowed figures down the hall in the dim light, working with their room key. She heard whispered arguing, catching only snatches:

"I'm not a healer!"

"—werewolf—"

"Utterly ridiculous—"

There was a quiet moan and the arguing fell silent. Kathy tip-toed towards the room as they entered and peered in, nearly twitching with curiosity; she leaned around the doorway to see what was happening.

What she saw made her gasp aloud.

"What—?" she demanded loudly in her fear. "What's going on?"

The flashes of green and orange light made her slightly woozy. The two men were waving sticks in the air, at the crumbled little boy in the soccer uniform. Had the world gone mad?

"Kathy?!" The shorter man yelped. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you're entitled to that same question!" Kathy cried, her hands once again dancing frantically in the air as she began to panic. Should she call the police? What about that poor boy? Should she attempt a daring rescue?

Sirius sighed, hovering over the boy's body like a monster that he obviously was, and glared at her as though she was only an annoying gnat. "Remus, would you care to do the honors?"

The man named Remus nodded and pointed the stick he held straight at Kathy.

There was a scream that lodged in her throat and she vaguely thought how romantic it would be for the janitor to come save her.

Sirius sighed again. "Go ahead, scream. It's not like anyone's going to hear you."

"Obliviate!"

She was only mid-scream before her world went black.

***

Kathy awoke in confusion. Her head was throbbing and her eyelids were heavy. She was lying on the carpeted floor on the lower level of the building. When she was able to fully open her eyes, she found herself staring at a pair of well-worn boots.

"Are you okay?" asked a gruff-voiced man. He reached out a hand to her and it was then she realized he was the janitor.

She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Oh my head," she groaned. "I think I must have passed out or something….I can't even remember how I got here in the first place."

The janitor looked at her sympathetically. "Why don't I get you something out of the vending machine and you go have a seat? I think your blood sugar's low."

As Kathy sank into one of the stuffed chairs in the lobby, she smiled to herself, feeling slightly smug. She had finally gotten him to notice her.

***

The hotel room was dark and small and, though neither of them knew how, somewhat damp. The single lamp was a dingy little thing that hung lopsided from the ceiling providing a dim ember glow.

The door had been shut lest anymore visitors decided to show up and a few more silencing charms had been placed to ensure no noise escaped to any muggle ears.

In the orange-red glow, there were three beings, two of them working feverishly—the other one in pain. The fragments of moonlight danced eerily across the carpet in silver white causing one of the men to involuntarily shiver in what could have been fear. Outside, the rain decided to cease and now only a cold wind whipped through the country side, howling like a lost soul, flinging dried leafs and branches in its temper tantrum.

Sometimes it isn't easy to know what to think. Sometimes people experience or see things, and they have no idea what to make of them. Your friend tells you that you have to see one of those muggle movies because it is the greatest thing ever filmed. So you get dragged to the theater, and it turns out to be a story about a girl who writes things in a journal and the journal becomes her friend. And there is even a scene where the actress dances with the journal, and the journal sings back. And when you walk out of the theater you not only doubt your friend's taste in movies, but you are beginning to doubt your choice of friends.

Sometimes it just isn't easy to know what to think.

Remus Lupin was experiencing one of those moments.

Here they were, only on a simple mission to the states—they were even on their way back and the come face to face (for Remus, he nearly ran over Harry's face), with their best friend's son who had been missing for nearly twelve years, vanishing from under the ministry's nose like a vapor in the wind. Remus' mind was still reeling as he and Sirius did their best to calm the hyperventilating boy and treat his wounds.

It wasn't one of the funniest moments of his life.

Remus frantically found the thermostat and cranked it up high and almost immediately he felt the blast of hot air from the vents. He turned back to the single bed where Harry lay, whimpering and moaning, his hands twisting the sheets and his back arching every so often off the mattress as he rode over wave and wave of pain and fear.

Remus leaned over the boy, keeping a firm hand on his injured leg where blood and pus oozed over a deep, muscle wound. "Looks like a stab wound—it's really deep, like someone had pushed it in as far as it could go and kept twisting. This is bad." He muttered to Sirius who was callously throwing their bags around in search of a no-pain potion he was _sure _he brought with them. "It's infected."

"Can't you heal it? Take away the infection and close the wound?" Sirius demanded, giving up on his search to re-dampen the cloth on the boy's forehead. He joined Remus by the bed, sweat beading his forehead and grasped Harry's left hand tightly—so tightly that Remus feared that it was hurting the boy.

"Damn it, Sirius, I'm a werewolf, not a healer!" he spat, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions in the room and unable to hold back his own. He mumbled a couple wound-cleaning spells over the deep gash. The yellow pus thinned some but continued to mix with crimson blood. "I've cleaned it as best as I could…who we really need is Madame Pomfrey; I doubt it would be a good idea to take him to St. Mungos."

"The states…" Sirius said for the thousandth time and totally ignoring Remus. "Why in the hell is Harry Potter in the states?"

"We can worry about that later—just be happy he's alive right now."

"That was a Death Eater that attacked him," Sirius continued, pinning the boy's arms to the bed so that Remus could lift up the Harry's shirt as he checked for more wounds. "You're okay kid. We're not going to hurt you."

"These bruises are old, Sirius…" Remus noted in alarm. "But there's some fresh ones on his right side. These cuts look to be from some sort of spell—I can heal these; they're not deep at all."

Remus waved his wand over the wounds and they almost instantly vanished leaving behind only slight pink skin. The man sighed, blinking fast to hold back the tears of anger for the poor thing writhing on the bed. This was going to be a very long night.

***

All in all, Harry hated people.

Now, I know that may sound harsh, but in generalities, it was true. Well, Harry didn't really know that…well, maybe he did but didn't really want to admit it. Because admitting it, would mean letting go of the last shred of hope that he had.

Harry used to dream about having a real family. A family who cared and loved him and just, well, acted like a family should; maybe a mother who would clean his scrapes or hold him when he had nightmares or a father who taught him how to ride a bike or played sports with him and took him fishing. But Harry had let go of that dream a long time ago, around the time of his ninth Christmas when he had been left out in the shed to spend Christmas Eve and into the morning while his relatives opened presents and feasted on turkey and ham and buttered, mashed potatoes. He realized that to dream is to waste time because everyone knew that dreams never really did come true. He came to accept the reality, no matter how harsh it became. But with that decision, Harry lost his trust in people for so many had let him down and treated him so badly (beside his soccer team, but even they never really gave him a friendship he longed for); he came to the resolution that he wasn't going to be hurt anymore.

So there.

But, very strangely, as Harry slowly, achingly opened his eyes to the unfamiliar, gray-darkness, something felt different. Not a bad kind of different, but a good kind of different. He felt for the first time, well, slightly safe.

But that was before he noticed that a man slept next to him on top of the covers, one arm draped over his chest and the other hanging off the edge of the mattress.

It was a reflex that made Harry lift a pillow and whap the stranger with it in pure terror.

The man let out a yell and rolled off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor.

Harry leapt out of bed but was immediately met with pain as his left leg met the floor; he stumbled than fell, landing hard.

"Whoa, kiddo, there's no need to freak out, we're only here to hel—" Sirius, who had been sleeping in the chair near the bed, jerked awake by the sudden commotion. His words were suddenly cut silent by the pillow Harry sent hurtling at his face.

Remus, who had been the one lying next to Harry in an attempt to get a good shut-eye, blinked, rubbing his stinging cheek where the pillow's zipper had caught him. Harry glared at him, chest heaving, angry that this man had the nerve to lie next to him and sleep. It was kind of creepy.

"Harry, you're okay, we're not going to hurt you. My name is Remus and that is Sirius. We're friends. We want to help you."

Harry backed away, letting his distrust show on his face. His eyes darted to the door than to the men and back. He could out run them, he thought.

Sirius launched forward and grabbed his arm quickly, obviously noticing that Harry meant to bolt; he wasn't expecting Harry's reaction though.

Harry elbowed the man named Sirius quite hard in the gut only seconds after the young man grabbed him. Sirius let out a hiss of pain and released the boy who scrambled over the mattress of the bed, dodged Remus and made a flying leap for the other side of the room, unfortunately away from the door.

Remus followed, panting heavily from the exertion he gave trying to keep up with the lithe boy.

"Harry—calm down—we're not going to hur—" Remus looked momentarily stunned as Harry magically slammed the man's back into the wall unremorsefully, not thinking clearly as the magic course through him in blood-laced adrenaline.

Harry barely ducked out of the way of a jet of red light Sirius sent shooting his way; it shattered the lamp next to him, making the boy scream in terror.

"SIRIUS!" Remus hollered angrily from the floor.

"NOTHING ELSE IS WORKING!" Sirius bellowed back.

_Stop panicking!_ Harry demanded of himself, feeling his heart violently pound within him; he was breathing rapid and shallow and Harry knew that if he kept it up like this, he would pass out from too much intake of carbon. _Just concentrate!_

Suddenly, the light bulb above them exploded into fragments that flew haphazardly. The desk splinted and the pillows burst in a cloud of swirling feathers. The tiny television shuddered than caved in one itself in a swift, effortless action.

_That's not what I meant to do, bloody hell._

Remus and Sirius gaped at the wreck and almost unconsciously, Remus drew his wand slowly as it dawned on him that they definitely weren't trying to control your normal, everyday boy.

Harry didn't care what the other two were thinking; he only cared about survival and escaping this hotel room. He didn't know where he was at or if he was even still in Ohio but he didn't care. Wouldn't you care if you suddenly woke up in a strange, unfamiliar place with two nameless men?

With nowhere to go, for Remus and Sirius were blocking the door, Harry backed into a dark corner farthest from them, chest heaving, eyes wide, frozen as he stared at the dangerous sticks the strangers pointed wearily at him.

"You're one of them," Harry gasped accusingly, automatically shielding his face, shaking despite himself. Where were these people coming from and why were they coming for him?

He watched as Remus and Sirius shared puzzled looks before a light of comprehension brightened Sirius' face.

"You mean death eaters? Of course not! We're the good guys—you feisty devil of a child," he added with a slight, breathless laugh. Harry felt slightly insulted and contemplated shaking a fist at them.

"Then wh-what—what are those?"

"Our wands," Sirius answered matter-of-fact, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. "You'll get one eventually as well."

Harry had never felt so confused in his life. Hadn't his uncle and aunt constantly reminded him that magic wasn't real? For twelve years they beat it into him and now he was expected to believe it on a dime?

"You're a wizard, Harry." Remus' quiet voice came too loudly to Harry's ears, sounding almost vulgar that Harry flinched.

"I'm-I'm a what?" Harry slowly sank to his rear, feeling flabbergasted. "NO! I'm just Harry! I'm no one special! Just Harry!"

"Well, 'just Harry', you're also a magical person—a powerful one at that."

"But I'm just Harry," Harry insisted, louder this time so that they would understand. "I'm a nobody! I'm-I'm just a freak!"

The last word he spoke hung in the tense air, leaving a rather loud echo that turned Harry's face a new kind of red. A strange look passed over Remus' face.

"Who told you that?" he asked gently.

Harry's stomach clenched. He hadn't meant to say that. He pressed his lips into a thin stubborn line and said nothing else.

***

It was a good ten minutes that the three spent staring at each other with Harry refusing to speak another word while the two men wondered how they were going to handle the situation.

It was Sirius who made the first decision.

Sirius slowly, carefully lowered his wand to the floor and crept forward towards the timid boy. "Listen, we're just trying to help you. We were good friends of your parents."

That seemed to do the trick for Harry's eyes snapped up. For a moment, Sirius stared. What beautiful eyes this boy had had, more shocking then his mother's, if that was at all possible. While Lily's eyes had held warmth and caring, Harry's eyes were piercing and unreadable and more jewel-like than Lily's ever would. They stood out more against his pale skin and dark lashes.

Sirius felt almost penetrated by these eyes that stared him down as he approached, as though they were daring him to make one wrong move.

Never, in a million-bazillion years would Sirius admit that he was intimidated by a thirteen-year-old.

"Hey, Kiddo, you're fine, no one's going to hurt." Sirius carefully, gently rested a hand on Harry's quivering knee and winced at the blood soaking through the make-shift bandage Remus had frantically made during the night. "Did that man last night…did he do this to you?"

Harry shook his head no.

"Was it an accident?"

Again, Harry shook his head no.

Remus knelt slowly next to them. "How about you tell us the story from the beginning?"

Harry hesitated and Sirius fought the urge to gather up the boy in a huge bear hug and spoil him senseless. Without a single word, Harry's demeanor had told his sad story. It was obvious the boy wasn't used to affection or somebody caring about him. He was drawn into himself, as if he was trying to fit his diminutive frame into an even smaller space.

Sirius smiled at him and Harry immediately looked down. His heart almost staggered under the weight of the boy's loneliness and his own guilt for not trying harder to find his godson.

"Harry?" Remus spoke again, waiting for Harry to tell the story.

Harry stared at the floor, somber like an ancient sage, and silently shook his head. Again.

Remus looked at Sirius who crinkled his eyebrows in a helpless gesture.

"Harry, we just want to help." Sirius tried again, praying to anything and everything.

Harry looked up again and once again, the animagus found himself staring at weary emeralds.

"You knew my parents?" the boy asked softly.

Remus and Sirius both nodded in unison.

"Your father was best mates with us; I was always pulling him into trouble with this and that." Sirius grinned fondly at his memories.

Remus smiled. "And you were always there to get him out again."

"More you than me, really."

Harry's huge, startled eyes moved in a pinball fashion as he tried to process what was happening. "You guys were friends? Like at school?"

"At Hogwarts," Remus corrected. "Which you'll be going to as soon as possible."

"Just wait till I get my hands on Dumbledore," Sirius grumbled as Remus' mention of Hogwarts reminded him of the headmaster.

"In due time, Sirius, lets just get Harry to Pomphrey first."

"Wait-wait a minute!" Harry demanded, pushing Sirius' hand away with a glare. "I didn't agree to do anywhere with you guys. How do I know you're not just making all that up and are in league with the guy who attacked me last night?"

Sirius sighed. "I guess you're going to have to trust us then, aren't you?"

"What about your aunt and uncle?" Remus asked suddenly. "Where were they last night and why were you all alone in the m middle of nowhere?"

"It wasn't the middle of nowhere," Harry said quickly. "I had a soccer game there. I guess they just forgot to pick me up."

"THEY FORGOT?!" Sirius suddenly roared at the absurdity that the boy just spewed. He leapt to his feet and Harry cowered in fear. "HOW CAN THEY FORGET TO PICK UP THEIR OWN NEPHEW?!"

Harry covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, all the while yelling: "They've done it before and I turned out all right!"

If Harry was trying to comfort or console Sirius in any way, shape, or form, he had failed. That statement just made Sirius all the more angrier! How dare someone forget about his godson and leave the poor boy all alone on a dark stormy night? There will be hell to pay!

"Sirius!" Remus yanked the Sirius away from Harry's corner and urged the man to calm. "Let's just get Harry to safer environment. By rights, you are his godfather and can legally remove him. Harry's just scared—he doesn't know us, so don't take any offense."

Remus' reasoning brought a bit of sense to the situation. Harry had stood again and was watching them with wild eyes.

"Harry," Remus began, walking towards the boy again. "Would you like to come with us? I'm sure your aunt and uncle wouldn't mind."

"They probably wouldn't even miss you." Sirius added unthinkingly, still angry about the treatment of his boy.

That statement brought tears to Harry's eyes and he blinked quickly and began to scowl to hold the tears back.

Sirius immediately regretted his words and sighed. "Listen, buddy, I'm legally your godfather and you are my charge. I promise I will protect you and take care of you. I'm also sorry about my statement earlier, it was out of line."

Remus looked at Sirius proudly and Sirius couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Harry smiling faintly at the exchange.

"You're really my godfather? I know a boy on my soccer team who has a godfather and he comes to the games all the time. Would you come to my soccer games because my aunt and uncle have never come to mine?" Harry pleaded, instantly looking excited and a little bit hopeful.

How could Sirius resist that? "Of course. But you first have to promise to come with us so we can properly fix you up and sort out this mess."

"Where?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyes again.

"Well, first we'll stop in London—"

"London? As in, oversees in England, London?"

"It's where you're from," Remus said. "You are British, you know that don't you?"

Harry looked as though Remus had insulted his intelligence and Remus quickly tried to make amends. "Forget I said that."

"Let's just get the portkey and get it over with." Sirius spoke impatiently.

"Portkey?" Harry asked.

"I'll explain later. Just touch this." Remus held out the old shoe that he pulled out from under the bed and Harry looked at it as though questioning Remus' sanity.

"You want me to touch that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"It's a faster way of travel, Harry. Just do it." Sirius motioned to the boy.

Harry reached out his hand than hesitated only inches before he touched the faux leather. "Am I really a wizard?"

"Or course you are," Sirius exclaimed before shoving Harry's hand on the shoe.

The familiar jerk around his naval told them that they were all on their way.

_I am a question to the world_

_Not an answer to be heard_

_Or a moment that's held in your arms_

_And what do you think you'd never say?_

_I won't listen anyway_

_You don't know me_

_And I'll never be what you want me to be_

_And what do you think you'd understand?_

_I'm a boy—no, I'm a man_

_You can't take me and throw me away_

_And how can you learn what's never shown?_

_Yeah, you stand there on your own_

_You don't know me_

_Cause I'm not here_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! I was surprised of the reviews I received and was rather pleased! Now, lets see if i can get double that with this chapter...*wishful thinking* you know, it always makes me write faster when I have encouragment. I still haven't heard from my beta yet so there is a possibility that this chap might get reposted.**

**Hope you enjoy the chapter! Warning: there is about eight cuss words is this story--it was necessary but it was not be a constant with my writing. **

**Destiny  
**

_"Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you."_

_***_

Harry was extremely confused. And that's putting it lightly. Sure it was awe-inspiring to stand in the magnificent shadow of Hogwarts Castle, with its flickering yellow lights in the windows and the moon crowning the highest tower; the glittering stars only added to that effect, like icing on a cake (it's a muggle saying, if you were wondering,).

But never, ever before had Harry actually been in this sort of situation. The two men _seemed _like they were telling the truth but how was Harry supposed to really believe them? Years of years of having hate drilled into his head made sure that he distrusted the two strangers who claimed to be his godfathers and anyone else for that matter.

_Godfather!_ What a brilliant word. It wasn't aunt or uncle or even cousin, but _godfather_ and Harry really liked that. He never thought he would have a godfather before. He had been so envious of that little blond-haired boy whose godfather was the most loving, caring person Harry had ever met. That boy had lost his parents but didn't suffer needlessly for it so why did Harry? Every time the man cheered or hugged the blond after a game, Harry would get a hurt in his gut that made him wince and break out into a sweat.

He hated it. He hated the boy for having a godfather and he hated his parents for not providing him a godfather who would actually love him.

Pain is not something most people seek out. Very few people in the world collect memories or mementos of things that sting. Photo albums usually are filled with pictures of birthdays and dances, camping trips and celebrations. Occasionally you'll find a few snapshots of someone's first car accident or operation, but for the most part the pictures we choose to look at depict pleasure, not pain.

Likewise, no right-minded person wakes up in the morning and hopes to have a bowling ball dropped on his head or to get his foot run over by a car filled with heavy bricks. People dislike pain on all levels. Even a little pain is bothersome. Nobody wants to wear shoes that pinch or shirts that itch or pants that bind.

Worse than pain, however, is hurt.

While pain usually bites and fades, hurt can hang around forever. Like the hurt you feel when someone points out to everyone how poorly you do something or how poorly you're dressed. Or the hurt you feel when your first crush crushes you and decides to hold hands and make eyes at someone else in public. Or the hurt of never having any friends of your own. Or the hurt you feel when you've never had anyone to go to when your nightmares get bad or when you look for some kind of affection or comfort and only receive a handful of rejection.

Harry knew hurt.

His life up to this point had taught him to keep his eyes down and keep his mouth shut. It had taught him to tolerate pain in silence. It taught him to never disagree with anyone most of the time. His relatives ignored him when they weren't lashing out at him. They lavished love and gifts upon his cousin while he stood in the shadows of his familiar corner near the living room right next to the towering book shelf.

Harry couldn't remember ever receiving anything from his aunt or uncle other than a good lashing. He had lost any friends he could come by due to his cousin's threats and beatings. He once had found a stray black, red, and gray kitten having been dumped in a trashcan. He rescued the poor thing and gave it food and water and a name. He had the cat for two days before his relatives found it and put it in a trash bag and dropped it into the Miami River despite Harry's sobbing and begging. He had been seven then.

After that, Harry learned that nothing belonged to him and everything that he _thought_ he owned belonged to Dudley, Petunia, or Vernon. He never even had his own room. The only thing he had to his name was his little cupboard in the basement under the wooden, rickety stairs with the spiders (which he named and really _could _tell them apart) and the cobwebs that laced each and every knick and cranny.

Harry definitely knew pain.

So maybe that was why Harry felt so much fear in that moment, not knowing whether or not this was a cruel prank. He was still waiting for the moment for his aunt or uncle to jump out with a metal studded belt in their hand and yell: "Surprise—you've been fooled!"

Harry did _not _want that to happen.

When Sirius attempted to help him walk, for Harry was limping greatly, Harry shed himself away, cringing and ducking. He hated when people touched him—even when it was a simple pat on the back or a squeeze of his hand—the human touch sent shivers snaking up and down his spine.

He didn't see the hurt that flashed across Sirius' face or the concern across Remus'.

"Is this real?" Harry blurted than immediately regretted asking the question—he had been so outspoken this past few hours that he was shocking himself. He waited for the scolding or backhand but nothing came and he saw that Sirius was grinning.

"I don't see how it couldn't be, Harry," he answered in a carefree voice, having forgotten the sting he had received from Harry only moments before. Then he saw the confused, disbelief on Harry's face. He lowered his voice slightly, as though he was about to whisper something amazing. "Tell me Harry; has anything strange ever happen to you? When you're feeling sad or scared or really angry?"

Harry didn't answer, though he really wanted to yell out: _YES!_ Had he finally found someone who would understand what Harry went through? But Harry was too shy and nervous to speak so he instead studied his cleats still caked with mud. They were a lot more interesting anyways. He wasn't really much of a person to answer anything. He had learned very early in his life that it was always a rhetorical question that he was being asked and never was he supposed to speak back.

"Harry?" Sirius waited; he obviously wanted Harry to say something.

Harry looked up at the man, slowing his fast-paced gait up the path to Hogwarts doors. Sirius' dark eyes met his and Harry held them for a moment. He was always good at holding a gaze. It actually had been his own weapon and staring unblinkingly his relatives in the eyes always made them back down sooner that what they usually did. It stopped working when his aunt or uncle decided to backhand him so hard that he fell nearly unconscious to the floor. But it worked for this man, who apparently wasn't in the mood for hitting anyone for he blinked several times before glancing at Remus who stood behind Harry.

"Things happen all the time," Harry finally answered in a quiet voice, cringing in spite of himself.

"Really?" Remus spoke behind him and Harry whirled around, nodding his head at the same time. The worn man regarded him for several moments, as if he was trying to figure him out.

"Yes—really weird things happen when I get a really strong emotion but other than that I can make things happen when I want them to happen," Harry had never told this to anyone before for fear of him receiving a beating and withheld food as punishment. He added quietly: "I don't know why." He waited for the blow, eyes darting wildly beneath his eyelashes; he focused on a rather large rock than a purple flower than the thin blades of grass, dewy in the misty night.

When nothing happened, Harry looked up quickly, surprise flitting across his face.

Sirius had been waiting quite patiently and Remus remained calm and thoughtful. "Show me," he murmured gently once Harry looked up; he exchanged unreadable glances with Sirius.

Harry looked around, his heart beating from the sudden adrenaline rush. Was this man really asking this of him? No one had ever done that before! Excitement bubbled in his stomach. Excitement and bit of fear of the unknown. He glanced around almost frantically, looking for something…anything to demonstrate with. Finally, his eyes rested on a tree—medium sized but nowhere near most of the towering oaks in the distance. More like a tree you found outside somebody's house in a well groomed neighborhood.

Harry pointed. "See that tree?" both men nodded. "If I wanted it to crack and fall over—it will," Harry looked at the tree and the poor thing did just that. It trembled before a jagged crack burst from its roots. There was a dull _whoosh _leafs and branches as it hit the ground.

Silence. Even the air seemed to still as though it waited with bated breath for a reaction from the observers.

"That wasn't accidental magic, Moony," Sirius whispered finally in awe and trepidation.

"No, Sirius, it wasn't" Remus answered back slowly.

Harry suddenly realized that what he did was wrong. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he burst out making his 'godfathers' jump in surprise. "I was only trying to show you…I can fix it…I really can…" he looked pointedly at the tree and it sprang back up in a swirl of wind and leafs. The gigantic crack mended and the tree stood as it did before though it looked somewhat relieved. _There. I made it better._ Harry thought, looking to the men for approval but not really expecting any.

The former marauders gaped.

"Wow, Harry," Sirius was the one to first speak—somewhat breathlessly. Harry perked up cautiously. "That's-that's really somethin'."

Harry looked uneasy. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I-I…"

"Hey, kiddo, you're fine," Sirius was quick to reassure. He drew the boy into a tight hug. "We just weren't really expecting something like that."

Harry was stiff as a wire. He didn't like such close contact. His breathing quickened and his eyes remained wide even though his face was buried in Sirius chest. When Sirius didn't move, Harry began to struggle and finally broke loose.

"Don't do that!" he demanded accusingly. Sirius looked shocked. "I don't like it when people touch me!"

Sirius looked helplessly at Remus.

Harry couldn't remember ever being hugged before. The feeling was foreign and if Harry wasn't so panicked at the moment, he probably would've realized that he actually kind of liked it.

But, again, there was that panicked thing…

The remaining walk to the castle was a quiet one with Sirius leading rather stiffly and Remus silently assuring the boy to keep walking though Harry looked worn and breathless. He winced with each step, noting that his leg hurt worse and worse.

The inside of the castle was dimly lit and quiet. There was not a single soul about besides the three entering. The stone floor was neatly laid and large oak doors were on either side every several feet. The ceiling arched high above his head and window at the end of the corridor reached from floor to ceiling, its humongous draperies flowing gently in a breeze.

Harry was speechless.

He forgot about his pain and weariness as he stared at the candles that floated in midair right below the ceiling, at the cavernous space, at just everything that his eyes could take in. He jumped, nearly crying out in fear when a portrait to his right greeted him and waved.

You see, Harry was used to portraits staying still and silent like they were supposed to.

"You're okay, Harry, all magical portraits move and speak." Remus said quietly to the look on Harry's face. Harry realized that he liked this man—he liked the way Remus spoke quietly and thoughtfully as though he always cared for other people's feelings. Harry had never met anyone like that before.

Everyone he knew always seemed loud. Too loud.

Harry sighed and moved away from Remus' closeness and stepped towards the wall where there were more portraits lined. He wanted a better look at them.

Once Harry had moved past the fear and disbelief, he found himself staring unmoving at the one picture, his heart racing again at the wonder of it all. The mother and the little boy stared back before the little red head suddenly began to wine.

"Mum!" he cried, climbing onto his mother's lap. "That boy won't quit staring at me!"

The mother promptly glared at Harry and Harry quickly turned away, his eyes darting back and forth as his mind spun in incomprehension. "Impossible," he muttered.

Remus heard him.

"Anything's possible," he smiled at Harry gently and Harry blinked, looking from one man to the other. "There's no such thing as the word impossible."

Silence. Then:

"Whoever said anything is possible never tried to slam a revolving door," Harry informed him quietly.

Remus paused, clearly not expecting such a response. Sirius sniggered. "I wasn't speaking about specifically that, Harry." Remus said, raising his eyebrows as though he believed that Harry should just accept it.

"But in admitting that, aren't you also admitting that not everything's possible, therefore leaving 'there's no such thing as impossible' out of the equation?"

Sirius suddenly let out a loud laugh that sounded nearly like a barking dog. The portraits nearest jumped and glared.

"I believe you've finally met your match, Remus!" Sirius crowed, looking rather proud of his godson.

"How old are you again, Harry?" Remus chuckled somewhat forcefully.

"Just thirteen," Harry answered.

"And what a wise thirteen-year-old you are Harry James Potter."

That voice didn't belong to either Sirius or Remus—it was too softly powerful to be.

What an oxymoron that is.

Harry whirled to see an elderly man—but not just any elderly man. He was tall and thin like a pole. His robes were a shocking purple and silver and he wore a tall wizard's cap with a wide brim the color of deep, royal purple, sparkling with a pattern of silver, shimmering stars that seemed to be rotating rather lazily. His beard was pure white and reached his waist where he had tucked it into his belt.

Harry realized that he was in the presence of a very powerful man.

_Is that Gandalf?_ Harry wondered and he instantly also wondered if elves were real and maybe even hobbits. And what about dwarves or ogres? Harry shuddered at the thought of having to actually meet an ogre face to face and he hoped they weren't real.

Harry slowly took a step back and then another until he was hiding behind Sirius. He wanted to clutch at the man's arm but didn't know if Sirius would accept that. Harry didn't think he could bear the embarrassment and pain he would receive if Sirius shook him off like the bother he was.

He didn't noticed how Sirius stepped protectively in front of him, arms slightly extended.

"I trust you two were able to put a stop to that band of miscreants in Ohio?" the man asked without much of a preamble.

"You trust correctly," Sirius said in a snide voice. Harry had a feeling that his new godfather didn't very much like this old man.

"Ah," the old wizard responded softly. His twinkling eyes somehow managed to find their way around Sirius' towering body to Harry behind him. Brilliant green met shocking blue and for a moment nothing else was said.

Harry waited, refusing to back down from this stranger's gaze, no matter how much it seemed as though this grandpa of a man seemed to look right into him, past his eyes and into the darkest parts of his soul that he kept hidden from the world.

Finally: "I see we have much to talk about."

***_Sirius_

Sirius stared at the slight, messy-haired waif that stood only feet from him, unable to rip his eyes away.

Harry stood stiffly, now clothed in a clean hospital two piece that buttoned down the front and was the color of stark white with a Hogwarts emblem stitched right below the left shoulder.

Poppy had tried to get the boy to lie down but whenever she pushed him to a bed, the bed would mysteriously jump away just far enough to not allow Harry to safe make a landing. The Hogwarts' nurse finally gave up and settled for Harry standing still, though she was scowling slightly.

Sirius had not gotten over the shock of the extent of injuries he had seen. Beside from the injured leg and bruises he had received yesterday night; Harry had a sprained hand, cracked rib, and was suffering from mal-nutrition.

But that wasn't what made Sirius' blood run cold.

It was the boy's back, with the spinal cord jutting out like a prehistoric dinosaur's. Flesh had been torn away in ugly strips, creating a macabre pattern. Old scars stood out thick and infections oozed yellow and white puss. The fresh ones weren't infected but just as grisly, the blood ebbing out carrying a black tint for it was so thick.

Sirius almost walked out of the room to be sick and to find some air to breathe for the hospital wing suddenly didn't have any. Remus had to look away—his face had gone gray and sweaty.

But Sirius forced himself to stay. This was his godson, his charge. What the boy suffered, he would have to suffer as well, especially since he was the cause of it.

_I've failed you, James. The one thing you asked me to do was the one thing I destroyed. If I hadn't been so stupid as to run after Peter seeking revenge, then Harry wouldn't be in this state right now. My poor boy…what has the world done to you?_

Harry, having been aghast and terrified that they had undressed him to heal injuries, now stood stoic and unresponsive, his face nothing but blank, his limbs like liquid as Poppy did a full body examination, desperate not to miss a single thing out of place. He mentally wasn't here anymore as he tried to escape pain and embarrassment. Sirius expected he did this a lot to the point that no one could reach him no matter what they did.

Albus Dumbledore remained in the corner of the room, watching the scene with unmoving, unreadable eyes.

Sirius bristled and, to keep himself under control, he transformed into the giant, Grimm-like dog rather abruptly, though his hackles remained raised and his teeth were just on the edge of being bared menacingly. Remus stared at him. Harry didn't even notice.

_DAMN DUMBLEDORE! _Sirius roared in his mind so loud he wondered if Dumbledore would be able to hear it anyways. He just wanted to take the boy in his arms and run and hide forever, to protect him from a world that seemed to do a child so wrong. He moved restlessly, circling the boy and nurse three times but settling back on his haunches to paw angrily at the smooth, marble floor.

_Damn, damn, damn, damn. Damn Dumbledore! Damn the Dursleys! Damn Voldemort and his death eaters! Damn Peter! Damn everyone and everything that ever dared to think about harming Harry! DAMN THEM ALL!_

Sirius stiffened when he felt a hand rest on his head. His breathing became heavy. The hand began to slowly massage his neck. Then he relaxed, his hackles lowering and eyelids drooping as the fingers threaded his thick fur, playing with his velvet ears and tracing a line down his muzzle and back.

The hands were too small to be Remus or Dumbledore or Poppy.

Sirius' eyes snapped open to see Harry on his knees in front of him, with his face buried in Sirius' side as Poppy gathered potions for him to help and heal. Remus stared in awe.

Sirius' dog form had finally gotten through to Harry despite Sirius and Remus having spent almost twenty four hours with the boy coaxing and assuring and doing their best to heal—but the dog finally got through to him—that they were not going to hurt him, but help him. Sirius wanted to transform and hug Harry senseless but quickly stopped himself knowing he would probably scare the boy more than comfort him. He would stay in Padfoot's form for now.

He settled with his chin resting on Harry's hunched shoulder. Harry's other arm encircled in neck in death grip so that Sirius nearly choked. Small fingers clutched his fur; the warmth of the boy's body lulled Sirius.

But just for now.

Poppy returned with an armful of potions. "Harry," she spoke gently. "I need you to drink these; they will help you feel so much better."

Sirius felt Harry shook his head, refusing to budge an inch; not that Sirius complained.

"Come on, cub," Remus spoke in such a soothing voice that even Sirius was calmed. "Once you drink them, I promise we'll leave you alone."

Harry sat quite still for several moments and Sirius figured the boy was never going to respond when suddenly, he felt the child-like body pull away from him and towards Poppy's waiting form, looking nearly like a lamb being led to the slaughter. He held out his hands cautiously.

Poppy tutted gently and rubbed the boy's back as he took the potions.

He drank each one quickly and without making a single face, which made Sirius rather impressed. When Poppy handed the last one to Harry, she looked meaningfully at Remus and Sirius before Sirius caught on quickly before his friend did. He phased back like lightening, catching Harry as his body went limp. The last potion Poppy had given him had been a sleeping draught. Sirius lifted his godson quite effortlessly and placed him gently on one of the beds, grateful that they didn't leap away this time. He covered the boy gently, tenderly before rounding on Albus Dumbledore, ready to unleash his worst.

***_Remus_

Everyone enjoys a bit of quiet at times. A silent sunrise or a peaceful evening can be very satisfying. Or perhaps it has just snowed and the streets are vacant and there is no traffic or noise. That sounds—or, in actuality, _doesn't _sound—enjoyable.

But there are also times when silence is simply not acceptable. Yes, there are times when a person needs to stand up and say something loud. Perhaps there has been a robbery and you know who did it.

I suggest you speak up.

Or say you know just the button to push on the dashboard of life, a button that will grant everyone every wish they've ever desired and end all suffering and cruelty. If so, don't just raise your hand and speak up, but press the button quick!

Throughout history there have been many great moments where someone has ended intolerance or confusion simply by speaking up. There have also been equally sad moments where those who should have spoken up have stayed seated with lips closed and in doing so allowed evil and wrongdoing to continue with no signal to shut it down.

Remus Lupin was not the kind of soul to let wrong slide without saying something. Normally Remus was a quiet, thoughtful being who preferred thinking to speaking, but the time had come to open his mouth and give his two cents. Here he was, standing before one of the most powerful wizards of all time, a man he respected and somewhat feared with a scrawny child of thirteen unconscious in bed behind Remus and Sirius, and he was about to speak his mind.

"What on earth were you thinking when you gave Harry to Lily's sister and husband?" He demanded forcefully, not bothering to notice Sirius' approval and Remus' suddenly outgoing nature. "Funny you didn't ask how we found him—"

"Lying out in the middle of the road!" Sirius butted in with a seething voice—all trace of his usual humor was gone; he was an angry animal, ready to protect what was his.

Albus Dumbledore was, all in all, not a bad man—just a man that sometimes didn't really think things through to the very end. And at that moment he was clearly regretting it, seeing what mistakes he made in awful hindsight, and realizing it wasn't going to be a simple swish of a wand to fix the damage.

Remus knew this of course, but he figured the man could handle a good tongue-lashing before making amends.

"Did you even think of checking in the states? Don't you think the mere fact that he was with his blasted relatives give the notion to search the entire globe—even the moon if that was what it took!"

Dumbledore's eyebrow quirked but he said nothing to retort Remus' hyperbole. "Now, Remus, I understand your anger. But you don't know for sure that it really was his uncle and aunt until the poor actually comes out and says it."

"Did you even bother to look at those gashes on his back!?" Sirius roared, making Poppy squeal with disapproval and Remus jumped, not expecting his friend to speak so loudly. "DO YOU REALLY THINK THOSE WERE MERE ACCIDENTS?"

Albus stood quietly, hands tucked into his sleeves in front of him, watching both men as they paced the hospital wing like restless tigers.

"The point is, Albus, is that Harry went missing for nearly thirteen years and you think that the Order would have had the fortitude and right mind to search and never stop searching until he was found." Remus crossed his arms to add a final punctuality to that remark.

Sirius jumped in again, his voice raised so that it echoed in the spacious office. "You should have sent the entire wizarding world out to search for Harry! He's the Boy-Who-Lived! He defeats Voldemort and this is the thanks he received? If I were you, I would've sent…well…983 times 338 of people! How much is that, Remus?"

Remus looked at him in bewilderment, eye twitching, his angry face falling briefly.

"Come on, man, give me a number!" Sirius wildly waved his arms towards Remus in almost desperation.

Remus once again gave the other marauder silence. What on earth was he doing? Trying to make a fool of himself?

"Three hundred, thirty-two thousand and two hundred fifty-four." A quiet voice broke through Sirius' ranting.

Remus froze but it took Sirius a moment to let it sink in.

"Thanks, kid—" Sirius stopped, a look of realization making him pause.

All three men stared.

Harry had sat up in bed, eyes wary, face pulled into a frown. He looked a bit healthier having been cleaned up and somewhat rested but he still looked worn and too skinny to be healthy.

"Did you do that in your head, Harry?" Remus asked quietly, staring at the boy who now who hadn't said anything else. He only stared at the sheets that covered him.

Harry hesitated than nodded reluctantly. "I like math." Was the only explanation he gave.

Sirius gaped. He shot an alarmed glance at Remus that said _did you hear what I just heard?_

Harry furrowed his brow as he watched the three wizards. Remus could tell the boy was uneasy with the whole situation and most likely desperately wanting to find a secluded place to hide. Hurriedly pushing aside the fact that this thirteen-year-old waif just did an impossible math problem in his head within a matter of seconds, he turned to Harry's emotional needs.

"Why don't you get some more rest, and we'll leave you alone for a bit."

No answer. Only those piercing emeralds that made Remus glance away briefly.

Sirius stepped. "Come on, kiddo," he held out a hand to Harry. "Why don't we find you something to eat then if you're not tired? Do you think you could walk?"

Harry slowly clambered out of bed, and then fidgeted with the edge of his pajamas, not moving anymore.

"Can't I just go back to the Dursleys?" his voice was so quiet but it still reverberated throughout the room, shocking all three men.

Silence. My heart suddenly throbbed in sudden panic. Did the boy really want to go back? Or did he just something that was familiar to him and not all this chaos and strangeness?

"Do you really want to, Harry?" Albus broke in, his voice grave as he gave the younger men a questioning look. Then glanced at Remus and Sirius as though wanting an explanation.

No answer. Again.

"Harry's not going back there," Sirius demanded. He grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder to steer him towards the door.

Now, Remus understood that Sirius meant this gesture in a protective way. But Harry didn't understand that. He only saw this as a strange man grabbing and forcing him to do something he didn't want to do.

Sad day for Sirius.

"Don't touch me!" Harry demanded, fear sending his voice an octave higher and the next moment a blast of magic so powerful that Remus nearly fell back (he had to grab the one of the bed's high post to keep from being knocked off his feet) sent Sirius hitting the floor and skidding backwards till his head cracked against the opposite wall.

And then the boy ran like there was no tomorrow, like there was a demon following him, the door popping open for him before he even touched it.

Remus flinched when it slammed on its own without any help.

Silence. No one spoke. No one moaned. Then Sirius groaned and attempted to sit up. Remus rushed to help him. Dumbledore remained where he was.

"Interesting," was all he said. "So very interesting."

* * *

So...did you like it? Well, don't just sit there staring at the screen like an idiot! Press that wonderful button below and tell me: the good, the bad, and everything in between.

Until next time and Happy Literacy!

Destiny!


	4. It's really hard to trust

**Sorry for the long wait!! My computer crashed *horror* and I lost a lot of my writings. So I had to start over on this chapter and it took a while for me to get some motivation going to rewrite what I had already written.**

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There are few things as bothersome as being shoved into a small space for any amount of time. Claustrophobia is an ugly condition. Who in their right mind enjoys having no room to move and little or no air to breathe? Imagine being buried alive, or stuck in a heating vent while trying to overhear someone's personal conversation down below.

Horrible.

I once spent an entire afternoon in a barrel in an effort to elude some pesky assailants. The ruse worked, but I have been even less enthusiastic ever since about volunteering for anything involving barrels or limited space.

It seems as if it would be equally uncomfortable to be squeezed between a stone statue and a stone wall in a strange, unfamiliar place. It would be dark, bothersome, and concerning. Maybe even frightening.

Harry was experiencing this very fate but, surprisingly enough, he wasn't bothered by it for the boy was used to very small spaces indeed, having spent the majority of his life in a stuffy cupboard. He felt safe in closed in spaces whereas open spaces made him feel exposed and vulnerable. So it wasn't the closeness that was bothering him at all.

But the darkness and the strangeness of the place he was in sent a horrible spike of fear throbbing through his body. Harry could feel the pounding of his heart against his knee as it was pressed to his chest in his curled up position. His breathing was loud and raspy. He tried to calm himself, knowing he would easily be found if he kept being so loud. He closed his eyes, swallowing so hard that it hurt his throat.

_"Are you scared?"_

The voice was merely a whisper, spoken within the deep recesses of his mind. He trembled silently, clutching his head between his hands, using his feet to scoot himself deeper into the dark corner. The shadows flickered and wavered violently in the gray-darkness. The dark stone around him provided no warmth whatsoever and he was left feeling damp and feverish.

He was stupid for running away and he regretted it severely now. Sirius and Remus had been nice to him and he had begun to feel a smidgen of safety in their presence. It had been entirely reflexive that made him run away in the midst of his panic. He had never known any more than the fact that if someone grabbed his shoulder like that, it usually meant something bad was about to happen.

_"Are you scared?"_

Harry shuddered so violently it was nearly a convulsion. He squeezed his eyes shut, barring himself from the world. He began to mutter: "Not scared, not scared, not scared, not scared…'m not scared…"

Harry hated fear. He hated being afraid. But in that moment, he couldn't _not_ be. The shadows were suddenly looming over him with fists raised. The flickering candles became burning eyes that watched his every movement.

"Not scared, not scared, not scared, not scared…" the mantra came out in hissing breaths.

_"Boy…are you scared?"_

The moan that broke from his throat was low and unearthly.

"'m not scared…'m not scared…no, no, no, no…" Mentally, Harry shoved the door shut and bolted the lock. He wouldn't let anyone in. He wouldn't let anything in. He watched himself slide to the floor in relief. This was his safe place. This was his sanctuary.

No one could hurt him here. And he was no longer afraid.

***

There are some things in life that you just don't want to talk about. The rash in your armpit or the fungus under your toenails—clearly those are things that are not desirable as subjects for conversation. It's the same thing for a book. I mean, a chapter where the villain falls into a pit and has to battle a robotic tiger is pretty necessary and cool. But a chapter where that same villain has to pull over and find a rest stop so that he can use the facilities is not only unnecessary, but hardly talked about. How often have you been reading your favorite stories and the main character has to hold off on wearing the sorting hat because he's in the rest room? Or what if Darth Vader, instead of admitting he was Luke's dad, had said, "Luke…where's the bathroom?" It's part of everyone's life, but it's not really necessary to write about it, except for this time. You see, if Severus Snape hadn't stopped in the boy's lavatories on the fourth floor of Hogwarts, then he would have never…well…maybe you should just read for yourself.

Severus Snape loathed public lavatories, especially ones that were regularly used by the dirty, miscreant children of the castle. So, except for an emergency, Severus would hold it in. Well, this was an emergency. The Professor knew he wouldn't make it four floors down to his private chambers unless he ran at full sprint. And Potions Master Severus Snape does not run unless absolutely necessary. It damaged his reputation and let the snotty-nosed students whisper and point at the usually icy and calm professor.

So, seven minutes later and after thoroughly washing his hands several times, Severus stepped calmly from the loo and cursorily eyed his surroundings before turning sharply to head towards the staircase. He was admittedly relieved that no student or professor had been around to witness his embarrassing submission to public facilities.

A noise, a sound, no…a _moan_ reached the Professor's ears in pathetic tones.

The man froze, ears straining for sound; he ignited his wand, watching the white light flood the hall. He ignored the protests of the sleeping portraits and examined the area with a trained eye. The noise hadn't sounded like a familiar ghost. No, it had sounded like a child.

There! Right behind a small statue there was a hunched shape hidden just barely in the shadows. Severus took a cautious step forward and froze when he saw a small body slump out from behind the stone and fall motionless into the circle of wand light, a dark pool of blood slowly spreading from beneath the child.

Severus Snape ran.

Now, Severus disliked children greatly. They were snotty-nosed, whining, pathetic little creatures with no capability to fend for themselves and seemingly born with a genetic make-up that required them to get into as much trouble as possible. Severus did his best to avoid them at all costs outside of the classroom.

But this was an injured child. A bleeding child. And no matter how many times Severus had witnessed and participated in harming people, the slaughtered innocence of a child made his gut wrench in a painful way. It made him sick to think that anyone would have the capability of harming such an innocent, pure thing.

Severus would never admit this aloud.

He was gentle and careful when he turned the boy over. He started when he saw a pair of emerald eyes staring back at him, heavy-lidded, and oddly blank.

_Lily's eyes._

Severus had never been a man who was easily startled, but to see such a distinct color of iris that he had only seen once before on a human being, made his heart jump in brief fear. For a moment he was frozen with shock, his heart fluttering in his chest. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as certain implications began to set in.

Severus ran a thumb over the boy's forehead, ignoring the boy's weak shudder, clearing away a smear of blood. Once the blood was wiped away, a dark, jagged scar in the shape of lightning bolt stared back at him in livid detail, stark against the pale skin.

"Harry Potter?" Severus spat, anger flooding his veins as he suddenly saw the resemblance of the boy who had made his Hogwarts days a living hell. The blood pumped faster in his veins at this discovering and for a moment, the professor sneered.

The boy didn't blink. Didn't move.

The anger left as suddenly as it had come. No matter whose child this was, it was still an injured boy in a seemingly catatonic state.

"How did you get here?" he murmured to the silent child, using the sleeve of his robe to wipe away more of the crimson. He relieved to find that the wound was just a small, only slightly deep cut that would easily be healed. He reminded himself that head wounds always bled profusely and didn't always mean something serious. He ran his wand over the small laceration, muttering several incantations, watching with satisfaction as the wound closed up, leaving behind a harmless patch of pink skin.

Severus snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face, frowning with the child didn't even blink. The lack of response worried him. Was Potter only in shock or was he mentally damaged?

He thought for a few moments.

No. Despite the odd blank look in the green eyes behind a pair of flimsy glasses, he could see intelligence behind the emerald orbs that noted every move Severus made. Something must have scared the boy into retreating within himself so deep that he no longer responded to reality. Severus gently pulled his hands away, watching as Potter's head slowly lolled to his shoulder, the back of his head dragging in the small puddle of blood that had accumulated. The eyes had yet to blink.

Severus stood and turned, casting a_ patronus_ in the direction of the hospital wing to alert Poppy that he was coming. When he turned back around, his heart leapt into his mouth. He took a step back in surprise.

The boy had stood silently, the blankness in his eyes suddenly gone, and he was now watching him with piercing green eyes. The gore smearing the boy's face and neck made him look rather morbid. His muscles were trembling and he was breathing raggedly. The residue blood dripped from his chin and to the floor. Fear was vivid in the emeralds that stared at Severus in lost confusion.

"Potter?" Severus couldn't help but snarl more from shock than anything else.

Nothing. Potter stood as silent as ever, eyes never wavering as he stared at Severus in blatant mistrust.

Now that was slightly disturbing. Severus hid his feelings behind a cold mask and took a firm step forward, hands ready to catch the boy should he collapse.

"Come with me, boy, to the hospital wing. I am sure that some person is out scouting the castle in your absence." The boy had begun to shake so hard that he couldn't hold his head up right and Severus wondered if Potter was on the brink of a panic attack. Those green eyes blinked slowly, rather owlishly as the boy seemed to think about what Severus had said.

No. Those weren't Lily's eyes. Lily's eyes had been warm and caring and emotive. This child's eyes were icy, emotionless, and challenging. They took in his surroundings like a hawk hunting its prey. Severus inwardly shook his head in contradiction. No, more like an animal afraid of _being_ hunted and therefore trusted nothing and no one. A puppy that had been whipped too many times and had turned into a vicious dog that inwardly trembled in terror and was desperate for love but didn't want to be shoved aside one more time.

Severus did his best to soften his tone. "Potter, come. I wish you no harm."

There. Something flickered behind those jewels. Something desperate to be noticed.

"Is that your wand?"

Severus blinked in shock. The boy had actually spoken! He looked down at the ebony wood in his hand than straightened.

"Yes, Potter. It is used for Magic. Do you know what Magic is?" he asked sneeringly.

Potter held out his hand and Severus suddenly found his wand ripped from his grasp and flying towards the boy who caught it and began to examine the ebony like a fragile artifact.

Rage boiled in Severus' blood. How dare that brat do something so audacious! Severus nearly stepped forward to knock Potter's head off his shoulders when he stopped himself. The boy was studying the wand with such fascination, such wonder that Severus had to force himself to take a deep breath, though his fingers continued to twitch in agitation. "Foolish boy! Unhand that wand at once or I will cut your fingers off one by one and use them in my potions!"

Potter didn't omit a sound but continued to turn the wand over and over as though he was searching for the secret to break the mystery.

Then: "Will I get one?"

"In due time," Severus answered stiffly, still repressing his emotions, his face pulled into a scowl. "Now, if I may, will you kindly give me my wand back before you suffer dire consequences?" that was meant to sound threatening but came out somewhat weak instead.

Slowly, the boy obliged, holding out the wand for Severus to snatch back. "Do not ever do that again, Potter, if you value your life. I will let it slide this time, but next time I will not be so forgiving."

Potter only stared, unafraid at the threat, his steady gaze somewhat unnerving.

Severus did not like that look one bit. He swallowed hard. "Come."

Potter took one hesitant step towards Severus before his suddenly whitened beneath that sludge of blood and Severus launched forward, catching the limp child before he hit the stone. He lifted Potter, slightly troubled when he felt the boney skeleton straining skin and pressing against Severus' own arms.

Severus cleared his throat. "Mr. Potter, if I may ask, how did you come to be in such a state?"

There was no answer. Not that Severus was expecting one.

He looked down at the shivering bundle to see that Potter's eyes were closed and his lips were parted slightly as he continued to breathe heavily.

"Potter?"

The boy opened his eyes slowly, the jewels were slightly distorted behind the cracked lens. He closed them again after several moments, ignoring Severus completely.

As the man walked with a hurried step to the hospital wing with the boy-who-lived in his arms, he thought. Such deliberate wandless and soundless magic done by an untrained thirteen-year-old was practically unheard of, even something as small as summoning someone else's wand. Severus was still surprised of how much control he had displayed with the little brat at taken his wand out of his own hands. The look on Potter's face was what stopped him. He had never seen such a pure wonderment over magic, even from the muggleborns that arrive every year. But the boy's curiosity had been marred by skeptical disbelief as he had studied the wand, obviously looking for the trick when there was none.

"Harry!"

A man was running full sprint towards them, his face pale and drawn.

Potter began to squirm, apparently wanting to be let down. Severus did so quickly, not wanting the boy to have a reason to complain about mis-handlement if it came to that.

Severus sneered at the werewolf but the man ignored him entirely, sweeping to a stop beside the boy who had stopped walking and was now standing silent and stiff as Lupin frantically searched for the source of the blood. He patted Potter, searching for signs of external wounds, checking to see if the boy was entirely intact and not in danger of implosion.

When the werewolf was finally satisfied, he looked up at Severus with a tired smile which the potions master didn't return.

"Thank you for finding him Severus." The ragged man breathed as he pulled off his sweat shirt to wipe more of the blood away from Harry's face and neck. "What happened, Harry? How did you hurt yourself?"

Potter gave no response.

"I healed the cut on his forehead," Severus sniffed. "There was no other wound, except the boy might be a bit touched in the head."

Lupin didn't hear that last statement, but Potter raised his eyes to glare, his fists curling tightly. Severus smirked back, unperturbed by the boy's vicious impression of a basilisk. So the boy had some fight in him after all.

"Oi!"

Severus internally groaned when he heard the voice of the animagus behind him. He turned in dread to see Black hobbling towards them, holding an icepack to the top of his head.

Severus smirked.

"Shut it, _Snivellus_," the man snapped.

"Sirius!" Lupin scolded.

The dog turned to look at Potter with appraising eyes. "You sure pack quite a punch, kiddo. I wasn't expecting that one bit!"

Severus raised his eyebrows. Potter had done this? He instantly felt a flood of curiosity as he turned to stare openly at Potter. Maybe the prophecy wasn't a mistake after all. But no, Severus didn't want to think about that. He wanted to enjoy his peace while it lasted, knowing that it won't be forever as so many of the wizarding world believed.

The boy looked somewhat ashamed and he averted his eyes to stare uncertainly at the wall. "I-I'm sorry…" he glanced back his dogfather hopefully. "I…really…'m sorry…didn't _mean…_"

Black waved him off. "No problem, Harry. I know it was an accident. Hell, it's not every day that I get blasted across the room by a thirteen-year-old without a wand!"

"Language, Sirius." Lupin muttered, still brushing at Potter's clothes like a fretting mother.

Potter had the grace to blush a furious red. "'m sorry…"

Black chuckled and motioned for the boy to join him and to Severus' surprise the boy obeyed immediately, a light leaping in his eyes that showed the beginning flames of a fragile trust for his idiotic dogfather. Though Potter stood slightly away from the man, he stood nevertheless next to Black and visibly relaxed. Black smiled fondly and ruffled the boy's hair not noticing or choosing to ignore the flinch that the touch brought from the boy.

Severus sneered, unable to hold back the disgust at the oozing sentimentality.

Slowly, Black turned to look at Severus, the smile he had for Potter fading to a grimace. "I _suppose_," he glanced reproachfully at Lupin who stared back calmly and expectedly. "I _suppose_ I should offer my _thanks_ for seeing to Harry's, erm, well-being."

"Please don't," Severus snapped snarkily.

"Now, Severus," Lupin began.

"Really. _Don't_."

With that, Severus spun on his heel, robes billowing, and stalked away, disappearing into the shadows of the hallways.

"What a _git_." Came the muffled echo of Black from behind, causing Severus to pick up his pace lest he did anything irrational.

Maybe hate wasn't such a strong word after all.

***_Harry_

"You brought us into this." Harry's reflection spoke.

Harry looked at the mirror in shock. Only moments before he had been ordered by the medi-witch to go take a shower and get into a pair of clean clothes that Sirius had somehow procured. They were in so much better shape than any of the clothes that Harry had received from the Dursleys and he could almost dare to believe that they were new. After pulling the navy blue hoodie over his head, he had turned to look into the mirror to inspect his new outfit.

He hadn't expected his reflection to wink at him. He took a step back out of pure reflex, ready to bolt.

The image he projected sighed. "Don't act too surprised," it said. "You've already seen some strange things here and from now on things are definitely going to get stranger."

Harry touched the mirror hesitantly and his reflection smiled a crooked smile. Harry pulled the mirror away from the wall and checked the back of it.

"You always were slow to believe anything," his reflection said. "Of course, now that you've finally joined the wizarding world, you are forced to believe simply by being here."

"How are you speaking?" Harry asked, glancing intently at himself in the mirror. "Those aren't my thoughts."

"Why would they be?" his reflection snapped. "I might look like you, but I have a mind of my own."

Harry's reflection sighed a heavy sigh. "I have stared back at you for so many years," it said. "Never able to speak. Now you're standing before me and I finally have a voice."

"How is this possible?"

"This is a reflective mirror," the reflection stated. "It allows me to reflect in more ways than just image. You're a little taller now."

"I guess I am," Harry answered, looking away from the mirror and down at himself.

"But just as frighteningly skinny."

"I guess…"

"There's no guessing," his reflection said. "You are taller. You are skinnier."

Harry swallowed hard and glared at his reflection who just returned his look with a bored expression. "I don't believe this."

His reflection shrugged. "Believe what you want to believe. Doesn't change me at all. I'll still be here and you'll still be there. Belief has nothing to do with it."

"This is wonkers."

"Maybe it is." It agreed.

Harry frowned. "Do you think the Dursleys have finally made me crazy?"

Again, his reflection shrugged, glancing stuffily at its fingernails. "They might've. But I seriously doubt it. By the way, I like the new clothes, definitely a big improvement."

"Whatever."

Harry quickly escaped the washroom, his hair still wet. A shiver danced down his spine at the soft echo of laughter followed him out. Relief washed over him when he saw Sirius and Remus waiting for him.

"You look nice, Harry," Remus commented with a smile, though his eyes crinkled with concern as Harry noticeably limped over to where they were standing. "Are you all right?"

Harry swallowed hard, wondering if he should tell that what had happened in the wash room. Would they think he was crazy? Would they get mad and send him back to the Dursleys for being a baby?

"Hey, kiddo," Sirius said with raised eyebrows. "You look like you're about to combust."

Harry flushed and nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "In the bathroom…umm…the mirror, it-it…you know…"

"Talked to you?" Remus finished with a small smile. The man exchanged glances with his friend and they shared a knowing look.

Sirius laughed at the look on Harry's face. "They do it all the time at Hogwarts, don't worry about your sanity."

Harry felt like melting into a puddle of relief. A few awkward moments of silence followed his godfather's remark.

Remus checked his wrist watch and gestured for Harry to follow. "We should leave now before it gets late. We're all tired and hungry."

Harry took a step back nervously before he knew what he was doing. He still wasn't sure he wanted to this. A large part of him longed for the small security of his cupboard.

"Harry," Sirius frowned. "There's no need to be scared." He held out a mug which Harry assumed to be another portkey. He barely stopped himself from making a face at that mode of travel, desperately wishing for the interior of a warm car. He felt silly for acting all nervous but in some ways, he felt that he had a right to. The men were practically strangers and no matter how many times they told Harry that they had grown up with his parents, they continued to be strangers who had taken him from a familiar place and thrust him into a whole new world where reality seemed to have flipped upside down.

Harry blinked and looked at Sirius. He felt a tad bit guilty. The man had come looking for him even after Harry had sent him flying into the wall. Harry supposed that was merit for at least a little trust. Gathering his courage, Harry reached to touch the ceramic glass, bracing his whole body for the rollercoaster of sensations that he knew was coming.

The last thing he saw before the world erupted into a blur was an old, white haired man in the corner, watching them with twinkling blue eyes.

***_Sirius_

Harry's silence was unnerving. The boney thirteen-year-old hung back from the two men, standing just in front of the first step, keeping his eyes on the concrete. He hadn't spoken since they had left and he had remained silent for the two mile walk to the edge of the wards. He avoided answering any questions Sirius or Remus asked by nodding or simply not responding at all. The boy had also refused all assistance to help his walk but Sirius knew that he knee was paining him greatly. The animagus had a feeling it something more than just pride.

Sirius dug in his pocket for his front door key to the mansion, exchanging glances with Remus who gave him a grim look before reaching back for Harry's still form.

"Come on, Harry," there werewolf spoke gently, obviously distressed at Harry's tense silence. "I don't want you to catch a cold."

After a moment of not moving, Harry slowly obeyed, his body literally exuding an aura anxiety as though he was waiting to be punished.

The solemn threesome stepped into the dark hallway with an air of slight depression, Harry's limp gait the only sound in the otherwise still house.

Sirius aimed his wand and muttered an incantation, finding it hard not to see his godson flinch at the sight of the wand. The lamps in the breezeway blinked yellow light into the dark mansion and Sirius turned to face Harry's hunched form.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" he attempted a bit of humor, throwing his arms out like a salesman presenting a new item in the shop.

Harry finally raised his emeralds to meet Sirius' eyes. He clutched his single, tattered bag to his chest. The look on his face, a look of twisted confusion made Sirius' stomach turn. No sound issued from the boy's mouth, leaving an awkward silence hanging in the air.

"Well…actually, it's now your home," Sirius continued. "And let me show you to your room."

"My room?" Harry echoed quietly. The sound of Harry's voice made both marauders pause.

Finally, Sirius found himself grinning. "Of course your room—where did you think you'd stay? A cupboard?"

The way Harry's face whitened to an impossible shade of paleness made Sirius' stomach lurch sickeningly. Anger quickly followed the nausea—an anger he'd never felt before—not even when he'd discovered Peter's betrayal. The feeling was more animalistic. Pure, undeniable instinct. The instinct to protect. The instinct to kill. His fingers tightened over his wand and he was suddenly ready, ready to hunt down the poor excuses of muggles.

"I'll kill them," he snarled savagely, limbs trembling. His words dripped like acrid poison. The blood that pumped through his veins was rushed and boiling. "I'll kill them."

Remus grabbed his arm as he made towards the door in a fit of rage. "Sirius," he warned sharply. "Control yourself." He shot a look at Harry and Sirius followed his line of vision to see that his godson had backed up against the wall, face pale, eyes narrowed into a fear-induced glare worthy of Snape. Remus' grip tightened on his arm in a scold-like fashion. Forcing himself to count back from twenty, Sirius slowly siphoned away the anger until all he felt a sort of weariness that made his muscles rubber from the aftermath of the adrenaline rush.

"I'm fine," Sirius sighed, pulling his arm away from Remus. "I'm sorry I reacted like that. I have a bit of a temper." Sirius knew better than to question Harry at this point in time. They had yet to earn the boy's fragile trust but the animagus struggled with the need to know the full explanation of Harry's reaction. But looking at Harry's stubborn, frightened face, he knew he would get nothing out of his godson, especially after the flare of temperament he had just displayed. ""m sorry."

Remus merely looked at him in with a calming expression. But in his brown eyes, flecked with green and gold, an inner turmoil was visible and Sirius realized that his friend was doing everything within his power to repress the inner wolf.

"Sorry," Sirius mumbled again. "You wanna…er…eat? Then we'll show Harry to his room?"

Remus visibly relaxed and he nodded slowly, looking grateful for the change of topic. "Pipa?"

With a startling crack, a tiny house elf appeared promptly wearing a sky blue dress and a floppy purple hat.

"Is dinner prepared?" the werewolf asked kindly and the little creature squirmed in excitement as she glanced at Harry.

"Yes, Master Remus, Pipa has put dinner on table just now."

"Thank you, Pipa. Could you prepare Harry's room for him. The east gable room just down the hall from ours."

The house elf bowed and disappeared with another crack.

Harry gaped, looking appalled. He looked wildly from Sirius to Remus than back to Sirius, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"House elf, Harry." Remus explained. "Like a maid or a house keeper."

Harry only nodded jerkily, averting his eyes once again, his face still unbelievably pale. Sirius could tell the boy was frantically trying to put some sort of realistic explanation to the creature's existence and the man couldn't help but shake his head. No child should be as skeptic as an adult. Weren't children supposed to be willing to give out trust and easily won over in love?

Sirius grimaced, watching Remus coax the boy into the dining room. He forced himself to face the blatant truth. Harry never had the chance to be a child.

***

"Well," Sirius leaned back into his recliner, lifting a glass of firewiskey to his lips and taking a sip. "That went better than I had expected. He only glared at us…what…only six times?"

Remus shook his head slowly, his shoulders bent over his violin as he carefully polished the mahogany. "He's afraid, Sirius. Harry's never had anyone to trust before. It will take time."

Sirius listened to the rumble of thunder and watched as a bolt of lightning briefly illuminated the dim room. Dinner had been a tense affair. Harry had spent the first ten minutes playing with the piece of grilled chicken, looking unsure of himself while the two marauders had begun eating. But what shocked Sirius the most was after Remus had prompted Harry to eat his fill, promising the child more food if he was still hungry.

The boy had _inhaled_ his food, leaving Remus and Sirius gaping in his wake. Harry ate like a starved animal, barely breathing between each bite and Sirius feared that he would have to perform the Heimlich before the night was over. After the boy had finished his plate, Remus had given him a second helping without Harry even asking. Harry gulped that portion down as well.

Sirius knew what Remus had been thinking when he had implored Harry with seconds. Sirius had been thinking the same thing. The boy _had _been brutally starved like an unwanted animal. Just looking at the child you could see that he was underweight and his growth was stunted. Between Sirius and Remus, though, that was soon going to be amended.

Sirius cleared his throat, taking another drink. "Quite a storm, isn't it?" he commented dryly.

"Hmmm…" was the only response Remus offered.

The sound of the door flying open made Sirius spill his drink down his shirt and Remus had barely prevented himself from hurling the violin from his lap. Sirius jumped to his feet.

Harry slammed the door shut and flattened himself against it, eyes wide and hair ruffled from what could have been a wild run from the third floor to the sitting room. "I'm thirteen!" he blurted loudly, flinching from his own echo.

"What?" Sirius sputtered, dropping his now empty cup to the floor, his shirt soaked through. He was slightly miffed from his spilled drink.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Remus asked in a more understanding voice.

The next flash of lightning made the scrawny boy jump and turn a shade whiter.

Sirius blinked in comprehension, his demeanor immediately changing. He took a calming breath. "You're not scared of the storm, are you, buddy?"

Harry violently shook his head in denial and flung himself away from the door just a loud boom of thunder rent the air, and launched himself straight at Sirius.

A gust of air was expelled from his lungs and it took a moment before Sirius to realize that Harry had his arms wrapped around Sirius' middle in a strangle hold.

Remus was immediately there, speaking soothingly and gently carding his fingers through the boy's tuft of raven hair.

"It's just a storm, Harry," he said. "It can't hurt you."

"I-I…" Harry struggled to speak. "I don't l-like loud-loud noises," Harry's voice was muffled.

"Not many do, Kiddo." Sirius curved the urge to pat the boy's back, reminding himself of Harry's injuries, and he settled for the shoulder. "Everyone's scared of something. Your dad was terrified of water. Your mother couldn't be near some muggle thing called clowns, and, well—hell, Moony's absolutely petrified when he sees a butterfly."

Remus glared savagely. "It's moths, Sirius, not butterflies." Sirius only grinned.

"Really?" Harry pulled away slightly from Sirius' middle. His emerald eyes were wide and full of apprehension and a bit of shame. "Wh-what makes you scared?"

Sirius sighed. "Being locked up."

Harry leaned into Sirius again, more gently this time and sighed as well. "Me too."

White lightning made Harry jump again and Sirius put his arms around his godson's shoulders protectively. He knew that Harry was ashamed of being scared of storms being the age his was and he wondered if there was anyone ever there was he was a little boy and terrified of the storm rolling over head. Was there anyone ever to comfort him? Probably not. Though disheartened at this revelation, Sirius couldn't help but feel warmed from the inside out that Harry sought out his comfort instead of suffering alone like he was most likely used to.

"I hate it," Harry moaned suddenly, his fingers clutching the back of Sirius' shirt. "It reminds me of my bad dreams, except the flashes are green."

Sirius felt himself stiffen and he and Remus exchanged looks of alarm. Could Harry be remembering that Halloween night at Godric's Hollow? Could the boy really remember his parents being murdered even though he was only one year old?

Sirius suddenly felt nauseous and from the look on his face, he could tell Remus felt the same way. Out of instinct, Sirius pulled the boy to his body as close as possible and he rested his cheek on the messy hair. "You're safe, Harry." He murmured. "I won't let anyone hurt ever again."

And for the first time after Harry heard that phrase, he believed it.

* * *

**Please review!! I would love to hear any comments, suggestions, ideas, or criticism! This chapter was sort of an in between kind of thing but the plot gets going again in the next chapter. I hope you liked it!**

**Until next time and Happy Literacy!**

**Destiny **


	5. Shake

**Whew! **_**Takes a deep breath**_**. That was a long chapter!! I hope you enjoy and sorry it took a while. I hope to hear from you!**

_Child abuse__ casts a shadow the length of a lifetime._

_Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around_

***

I can almost see it

That dream I'm dreamin'

But there's a voice inside my head sayin'

You'll never reach it

Every step I'm takin

Every move I make feels

Lost with no direction

My faith is shakin

But I, I gotta keep tryin

Gotta keep my head held high

Remus walked quietly down the long corridor of the third floor of the Potter Mansion, his hair giving the impression of a restless night of sleep. He yawned tiredly, stretching out his lanky arms towards the ceiling. It was early the next morning and dawn was just beginning to break with pastel colors of orange and pink that danced in the tendrils of the rising sun shining through the window at the end of the hall. The day promised to be a good one. Now, if he could successfully raise the other two occupants of the household. Remus knew Sirius would be especially unwilling, the man was the complete opposite of a morning person and those who saw Sirius Black before ten o'clock were in imminent danger.

Even though Remus would have preferred a couple extra hours of sleep himself, he knew that they needed every bit of daylight given to them to get the abandoned house in decent living condition. The last time anyone had ever occupied the Potter Mansion was before Harry was even born and though the house was willed to Sirius until Harry was of age, neither Sirius nor Remus had the desire to live in it. But coming upon Harry made Sirius and Remus go over their priorities and they both came to the conclusion that the Potter Mansion would be the ideal place to raise the Potter heir.

He stopped in front of Sirius' bedroom and very carefully opened the door to peer in. Harry's scrawny form laid sprawled out, one arm hanging flaccidly off the edge of the bed, the other thrown haphazardly over his face. The blankets had been kicked off during the night and only covered one foot. His injured knee, though, was still propped up by a pillow which Remus noted, upon further inspection, had been spotted crimson red during the night. Next to Harry, Sirius was snoring loudly, back to the door, one arm resting over his head.

Remus couldn't help but smile.

Once they had calmed Harry after he had run into the room in fright the night before, Sirius was able to coax the boy into bed, allowing them the rest of the night to rest in peace. Remus hadn't been so fortunate. He was a light sleeper and the noise of the storm kept him awake. With each passing growl of thunder, thoughts would chase themselves around in circles so he spent most of the night going through things that needed to be accomplished, mentally making a shopping list for groceries and necessities for Harry. Looking sadly at the poor excuse of clothes that the boy had worn to bed, Remus figured shopping for his godson would be first on the list today after breakfast.

Remus walked across the room to the window and threw open the drapes. Protesting groans from Sirius made Remus grin and turn back around to see that the animagus had thrown the blanket over his head with a few choice swear words. Harry, however, had already rolled out of bed and was standing by the door looking somewhat forlorn, favoring his left knee, his eyes looking at everything except Remus. It was rather pathetic to watch and the werewolf felt his heart reach out for the boy but he knew that at this point in time, making an advance such as that would be unwanted and feared. So Remus waited until Harry gathered the courage to look at him before Remus raised a finger to his lips in a conspiratorially gesture and lifted his wand.

Harry flinched at the sight of the glossed wood but Remus pretended he didn't notice.

Suddenly, the four-poster bed lifted and dumped Sirius onto the floor. One wild yell and Sirius exploded from under the covers in an array of colorful swear words, looking murderous and ready for blood.

"I'm gonna kill you, werewolf!" he bellowed liked a demented banshee as he detangled himself from the sheets. Remus waited patiently. "First you open the drapes and nearly _blind _me…!" The man stood with his wand at the ready, his spluttering voice coming to an abrupt halt as though he couldn't manage saying anything else.

Remus only smiled serenely, not intimidated at all. "Too bad for you that the speed of light is overwhelming. You have fifteen minutes to get ready for breakfast. We'll be leaving for muggle London after eating."

"Muggle London? Why the hell would we do that?"

Remus sighed. Sometimes he felt like the only one of intelligence in existence. "We're shopping for Harry. You know, your godson?"

Sirius turned with a jolt of surprise and both men looked at the thirteen-year-old wizard watching their exchange with nervous, wide-eyes. The animagus immediately calmed. "Sorry 'bout that, kiddo. I'm not much of a morning person."

Harry didn't give an answer. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he seemed to process this information. Finally: "Shopping?" he asked in a low voice.

"You didn't think we'd allow you to continue to wear those horrors, did you?"

Harry's cheeks flushed a furious pink and he averted his eyes in shameful anger and Remus glared at Sirius and his stupidity.

"We want to take you shopping, Harry, because we are your guardians and as such, we are responsible for buying you necessities. I dare say you'd like something new, wouldn't you?" Remus tried to quickly amend, his voice soothing.

Harry fidgeted before looking up again with his piercing eyes that seemed to scrutinize every inch of Remus' being before dropping his eyes back down to the floor. He didn't voice an answer though.

"There's a bathroom in your bedroom where you could take a shower if you'd like. You can wear the clothes Madame Pomphrey gave you yesterday. " Remus said in the awkward silence. The werewolf drew in a deep breath before continuing on in a regimented tone. "Breakfast is in fifteen minutes and I expect both of you to be on time and ready to go. Any questions?"

Sirius raised his hand like a school boy, making Remus roll his eyes. "What Sirius?"

"So what _is _the speed of light?" he asked innocently.

"299,792,458 meters per second." Harry answered quietly, with a touch of a smirk around his eyes that suddenly made him look like James in an unexpected way. He obviously found his godfather amusing. The look immediately vanished though, when both men turned to look at him and the boy flinched as though expecting a harsh scolding for his knowledge.

Sirius seemed to have prepared himself for an answer from Harry for he only blinked before raising his eyebrows. "So, what's the speed of dark, then?"

"There isn't," Harry shot back, his voice gaining confidence with each syllable. His eyes took on a certain brightness that Remus had not yet witnessed, giving the piercing emeralds a spark of youthful shine. "Dark is the absence of light so it can't have a speed or anything like that. It's just, well, er, _dark_."

Sirius genuinely looked surprised. "Really? Humph, never thought of that. So what about the color _dark_? Is that the absence of color?"

For a moment, Harry looked stunned as though he had never had anyone ask him for information before. He quickly regained himself though and answered back somewhat eagerly, somewhat shyly. "You mean the color black? No—white is the absence of color…er…black…well, it's like all the colors all put together, y'know?"

"Cool," Sirius looked impressed. He shot a proud glance at Remus who smiled weakly in response. "I never knew that."

Remus was momentarily stunned as Harry flashed the first _real _smile since Remus had met him. The boy had obviously never had anyone accept his vast knowledge. Remus watched as Sirius smiled back in a way that Remus had never seen before. He had seen his smirks, seductive smiles, mischievous smiles, malice-filled smiles and so on but he had never seen Sirius smile in the way a father would to indulge his child. It was a gentle look that expressed an unending amount of affection for the waif. Harry's eyes brightened even more at the smile he received from his godfather and moved towards Sirius like a magnet; Remus felt a small pang of jealousy. Why couldn't he win the child's fragile affection so easily? He quickly shook the feeling away, knowing it was ridiculous to feel that way. Sirius had always been the extreme of charismatic, winning people's trust and admiration with the bat of eye. Remus, on the other hand, had always been somewhat shy and introverted, preferring the company of books over a large crowd. He had admitted before that he was socially awkward but he could always count on James and Sirius to help him merge with a crowd for both boys had been extroverted.

"So, all these little bits of information….where do you find them?" Sirius had continued, not noticing Remus' inner plight. This was the most Harry had spoken and it was obvious that the animagus wanted to keep it going for as long as possible.

Harry shrugged. "I…I read…there isn't much else to do at the Dursleys. And sometimes, if my Uncle has the telly up really loud and I sit really quietly in my room, I can hear the things that the people say on the Discovery Channel."

Neither Sirius nor Remus knew what the Discovery Channel was but they both nodded in response anyways.

"What things do you like to read about?" Remus asked, his interest immediately piqued as soon as Harry said that he had liked to read. Sirius rolled his eyes at his nerdy friend.

"Planets and stars and stuff like that. That's how I knew 'bout the sun. And I like reading 'bout the ocean, too." Harry looked from one man to the other, his voice strong with self-assurance. He began to use his hands as he spoke, showing that he was becoming more than comfortable speaking with both of his godfathers. "Did you know that every year the ocean gains a little bit more salt?" Harry's eyes widened with dramatic punctuation.

"Really?" Sirius asked, obviously trying to sound impressed by this little tidbit of information but obviously not.

"Don't you know what that means!?" Harry looked practically scandalized when Sirius shook his head. "It means that the earth just _can't _be millions of years old! If it was, we would be able to almost _walk_ across the ocean by now! Because there would be so much salt!"

"Really? Salt?" Sirius blinked in surprise.

"Uh-uh. That means that the earth can _only_ be a few thousand years old instead of millions!"

There were several minutes of silence as both Remus and Sirius stared at the young teenager. The boy seemed to wilt beneath the scrutiny and Remus decided to rescue him.

"Shower, Harry," Remus quietly reminded the boy who responded immediately. "I need to clean your knee afterwards so come get me before you get dressed."

Harry whitened at the thought but nodded furiously before limping away.

"Merlin." Sirius' voice was the only thing that penetrated the quiet that followed Harry's absence.

***

The shower was heaven. The hot water massaged his tense shoulders and kneaded the knotted muscles in his back. Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of the tub, feeling the smooth porcelain against his skin. His black hair lay plastered against his face and his surroundings were nothing but blurs of colors for he wasn't wearing his glasses. But he was relaxed for the first time in he didn't know how long. His fears were virtually non-existent. He was almost pain-free from the disgusting potions that the Hogwarts medi-witch had forced down his throat to heal the bruises, welts, and scrapes, and even though the pain potion he had taken was wearing off, his knee didn't hurt as much as it did before for the infection was gone and the wound was finally healing correctly.

With only the sound of the shower to keep him company, Harry thought.

Magic—there are those who say it doesn't exist. In fact, Harry himself has made that statement before. But all it takes is the careful study of any leaf to realize that something magical is going on somewhere.

But Magic is a tricky thing.

Often it is explainable. People fly through the air in planes and live underwater in submarines. Plants grow within weeks and cities operate and sustain millions of people. A person can talk to practically anyone almost anywhere around the world instantly. People's images are transported by photo in the time it takes to press a button. Dinosaurs seem real, huge apes exist, and other worlds are just a movie ticket away.

Perhaps nothing is more magical than the book. Harry smiled for he loved books. Paper, glue, and some words and you are taken away from where you sit, stand, dance, or lean to greater understanding or experience.

There were many types of magic that were acceptable.

But magic with wands? He knew he had to believe it for he had performed countless acts of the forbidden 'deed' without even wanting to. To believe in this type of magic was to believe in more than just magic—it was to believe in a dream finally coming true. It was to finally understand that the time was coming when Harry could overcome the limitation he had placed on himself. To believe in this type of magic was, for Harry, to step into fear, to step into the unknown and let fate worry about the outcome. It had always been his dream.

He remembered when he was young he used to wish for there to be someone out there who he could relate to, someone who suffered from the same things as he did. But the dream quickly faded when no one had come to rescue him as he continued to be punished for things out of his control. Maybe that was why his parents dumped him at the Dursleys…maybe because they didn't want a freak for a son.

With that, Harry drew his knees up to his chest, ignoring the fact the water was beginning to lose its heat and was getting colder by the minute. He wondered if his parents ever had any more kids. Did they look like him? Were they smart and talented and normal? Harry felt nausea push his stomach up is throat and he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to control himself. Why did _he _have to be the wizard, the special one? Why couldn't his parents just accept him for what he was and be done with it?

_"You're a freak, boy, that's why no one loves you. That's why your own mother and father dumped you on our doorstep. They wanted to be rid of you. And out of the kindness of our hearts, we took you in when no one else would. And why would no one else take you in?" Uncle Vernon glared down at Harry who shifted from one foot to the other._

_ "Because I'm a freak." Harry muttered, glaring hard at the floor, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "That's why."_

_ "Good boy." The man almost sounded nice but when he took a step forward towards his nephew, Harry flinched, fear sending his heart pounding. There was a pause, than a small, horrible chuckle that made Harry raise his arms over his face for protection._

_ "Are you scared, boy?"_

_ "'m not scared." Harry whispered._

_ "What was that, boy?"_

_ "'M not scared!" Harry begged, his knees buckling as the first blows rained down._

Harry jerked back to reality by the sound of a voice calling for him through the door. Harry lurched to his feet and was rewarded by a stab of pain in his knee. He let out a soft cry before sinking back down to the tub floor, shivering from the icy shower.

"Harry?" It was Sirius' voice. "Are you all right? You've been in there forever and I just heard you cry out."

"'m not scared!" Harry cried out in a strangled voice than immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. Had he just blurted that? In his muddled state, Harry had meant to say he was fine but he accidently had said something entirely different.

There were several moments of silence with only the sound of Harry's heart thumping in his ears. Maybe Sirius hadn't heard that awful slip. But it seemed Harry never got what he wanted.

"Harry, I'm coming in."

"No!" Harry yelled in panic, scrambling to his feet again, using the metal bar at waist height to steady his wobbling legs.

"I swear I won't look!" the sound of the door opening made Harry freeze.

"No." Harry repeated, weakly this time.

"Look, my eyes are closed. I can't see anything. Moony said your leg might be hurting really bad. He made me come to check on you. So if you want to be mad, be mad at him."

Harry watched wide-eyed as a blurred figure of Sirius popped in his head , eyes squeezed shut. Harry was mortified!

"Now don't look at me like that—"

Harry yelped.

"Just kidding, I can't see you at all, but it feels like you're shooting me with laser beam eyes." Sirius laughed at his own joke and held out his hand. "Holy sh—merlin! Do you always enjoy showers in the sub zero?"

Harry was not amused. He silently seethed and remained still.

"Just give me your arm and I'll help you out. I know your leg's hurting. I heard you cry out. I've got super hearing."

Harry remained silent and still.

"Well, actually, Remus is the one with super hearing. He can hear _everything—"_

"Like you being an idiot." Remus' voice suddenly cut into Sirius' rambling and Harry jumped, making another bolt of pain buckle his knee. "Now get out."

"Wha—"

"Sirius, don't make me repeat myself." The authority in Remus' voice made Harry shiver, or maybe it was the fact he was still standing in a shower that rained cold droplets on his bare body.

Grumbling, Sirius left and shut the door so hard that Harry heard the bathroom mirror rattle. Harry flinched and whimpered.

The shower curtain was swept aside and Remus' kind but grim face appeared. Harry felt utterly exposed and he felt his face burning from the tips of his roots to the dips in his cheeks. Remus shut off the water and the abrupt cut off of noise made Harry's ears ring. Without warning, Harry burst into ashamed, fear-filled, tears but Remus didn't even twitch. His hand tenderly cupped Harry's chin and he looked straight into Harry's green eyes. "You don't have anything that I don't have, Harry. There's no reason to be embarrassed." Remus gently grabbed Harry by the arm and practically lifted him from the tub with surprising strength. Once he had steadied Harry's quivering form, he quickly he wrapped a large, fluffy towel around Harry's shivering form and began to vigorously dry Harry's soaking hair with another towel as quiet sobs continued to wrack his body.

He didn't know why he was crying. Maybe it was because he felt utterly exposed with every scar he had ever received from the Dursley's naked for the eye to see. Or maybe it was because no one had ever done this before to him. He had watched, as a small child, as Dudley had been wrapped in a towel and gently dried while Harry was left standing naked with no towel or anything for that matter to dry himself after a bath that he got so rarely. _Childish!_ His inner voice scolded. But at this point he didn't care.

"There." Remus announced, pulling away the towel he had been using to dry Harry's hair. Harry took one accidental look in the mirror, did a double take, than heard a bubble of unsteady laughter break through his tears.

"Wha-what did you do?"

His hair gave the impression that he had been electrocuted to the extreme. And that was being nice. He attempted to pat down his unruly hair.

Remus chuckled. "I assure you, Harry that my intention wasn't to give you the look of a maniac." He used a gentle hand to help smooth down the fluffed spikes.

Harry wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, his breathing finally slowing.

"Sirius didn't mean to crowd you like that. He just gets over excited—like a puppy." Again, Remus chuckled at his own personal little joke.

Another small, weak laugh leaked out and Harry felt himself calm. He leaned against Remus' chest as the man supported him. For a moment they just stood there with Remus rubbing his back in gentle, circular motions. "Better?" the man asked after several minutes in silence.

Harry nodded, feeling embarrassed by his actions. He couldn't believe he had really fallen apart like that. If that had happened in his uncle's presence, Harry was sure he wouldn't be alive to tell about it. It was always a brazen act when he glared at his uncle, which was the only thing he was brave enough to do but crying and sobbing and acts of foolish weakness were forbidden in Vernon's book. Harry cringed, unable to raise his eyes to meet Remus'. "I didn't mean…well…I'm-I'm sorry…"

"Why are you apologizing?" Remus asked, sounding completely startled. "There's nothing to apologize for. Everyone deserves to cry every once in a while. It helps heal."

Harry nodded even though he didn't really understand what Remus was getting at. He took a step back, feeling awkward as he stood in only a towel.

"Sit on the toilet seat and I'll clean your wound and bandage it. I laid your clothes out on your bed so once you're dressed, come on down stairs and eat breakfast. You're hungry, aren't you?"

Harry shrugged as he lowered himself gingerly onto the seat. Remus knelt down and rested Harry's right foot onto his own thigh. The limb quivered from the touch though Harry did his best to still it. They sat in silence as Remus cleaned the gaping wound, his movements careful and tender. Harry sat still for the process, his entire body so tense that his muscles had begun to tremble from the effort they were putting forth. He never liked it when people touched him and even when the gesture meant no harm, such as Remus was doing right now, the brush of human fingers made his heart leap and stutter in a thrill of fear.

Unconsciously, he found himself slowly pulling away from Remus' touch until the man grabbed his leg firmly and held tight before continuing his ministrations. He didn't speak but Harry read his intent clearly. Don't move or be punished. Of course, Remus didn't even think of punishing Harry for trying to pull away but that was all that Harry knew and he immediately froze, his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the first blow to fall.

It never did.

"All done," Remus announced, releasing Harry's imprisoned leg. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Harry didn't even open his eyes, his heart pumping so loud he just knew that the man could hear it as well.

"Harry?" Remus' voice was gentle now. "Harry, breathe. Take deep breaths. No one's going to hurt you…everything's okay…that's it…in…out…just take it slow and steady…you're completely safe with me."

Harry hadn't even realized he had been holding his breath. He obeyed Remus' voice until the buzzing in his head had stopped and the sickly waves of yellow had ceased crossing his vision. He opened his eyes to see a very pensive, very concerned young man. "Harry?" he spoke carefully, picking each word out with thought. "Whatever I did, I am sorry. Are you all right?"

Harry swallowed convulsively and gave a sharp nod. He hated looking weak. His face was burning in his embarrassment and he wished he could just somehow evaporate or melt into the floor and no longer exist.

"Is there something you would like to talk about? Anything at all?"

This time Harry barely shook his head, his arms clutching his towel to, his eyes averted from the man's probing ones, staring at the small puddles of water on the tiles.

A moment of silence, than: "Very well. Go and get dressed. Do you need me to help you to your room?"

Harry shook his head and stood on wobbling legs, shielding away from Remus' concerned hands and he half hobbled, half dodged from the washroom in search of the solitude of his bedroom just on the other side of the door. He didn't see the silent tear slip down the man's cheek as he watched Harry go.

***

Breakfast was rather rushed but for Harry it was enjoyable nonetheless. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to eat bacon. He helped himself to five pieces before scooping the scrambled, buttered eggs into his mouth, inhaling the butter and jam toast before downing the glass of milk in three gulps. He hadn't noticed both of his guardians watch him with pained expressions. After the hurrying clutter of the dishes being put up, Remus ushered them to the common room where he pulled a deep blue beanie over Harry's ears.

"It's a bit nippy outside," he said to Harry as he led them to the fireplace much to Harry's bafflement. Shouldn't they be taking the front door to leave?

"Floo powder, Harry," Sirius explained to Harry's widened eyes. "Perfectly harmless, just make sure you pronounce where you're going clearly and loudly or you'll end up somewhere entirely different. I'll go first."

A burst of green flames made Harry jump. "Diagon Alley!" Sirius called, throwing down the green-gray powder in a rather dramatic gesture that should've belonged on a stage then in a fire place. The man disappeared with a puff of smoke and green flames.

"Whoa!" Harry couldn't help but exclaim in shock than immediately looked towards Remus with a guilty expression.

The man didn't notice, instead he gently pushed Harry's body closer to the fireplace and gestured him to take a fistful of powder. Harry slowly complied, thinking that this was completely bonkers and wondering if he was taking his last steps on earth. Oh well…might as well go out saying it right.

"Diagon Alley!" Harry shouted as clearly as he could and suddenly found himself spinning spastically through the floo, his arms and sides banging haphazardly against the stone sides and he was sure he would be bruised. He wanted to scream but feared getting a mouthful of soot. It seemed an eternity before Harry found himself being spat out of an entirely different fireplace and sprawled on the hearth of a busy pub, feeling successfully rattled.

He found himself being lifted swiftly to his feet and a hand began to brush the soot and ashes from his clothes.

"You're worse at floo than your father was!" Sirius chuckled, keeping a hand under one of Harry's arm who was still swaying from the ride. "Did you take that pain potion Remus gave to you?"

Harry nodded, testing his injured leg, feeling only a slight discomfort.

Remus arrived shortly after, looking relieved to see Harry standing whole by Sirius. "How was it?" Remus asked Harry.

Harry only shuddered and shook his head.

"I don't think he liked it," Sirius said with another grin but Remus looked sympathetic.

"It's not my favorite mode of transportation either. You'll get better." Remus beckoned for them to follow. "Daylight is burning. After Diagon Alley, we'll be stopping by muggle London for clothes."

"I need a couple jeans for myself as well." Sirius spoke, guiding Harry through the dark pub until they stepped out into the small back courtyard, facing a tall, brick wall.

Harry watched in wonder as Remus tapped his wand on the bricks in what could have been a pattern. Remus drew back and all three of them waited in a sort of awkward silence.

"Is-is something supposed to ha—?" Harry's question was cut off when the bricks began to pull back on themselves, revealing an entrance, leaving him gaping and Sirius laughing at his expression.

Diagon Alley made Harry literally freeze in his footsteps.

"Oh good," Sirius said, looking around. "It's not that crowded."

Harry felt as though he was about to choke. So many new sights and sounds and feelings and people…. Feeling overwhelmed he stepped back against the warm, comforting chest of Sirius who put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Easy there, kiddo. It's a little much at first but you'll get used to it."

Harry didn't give him any type of response, instead he pressed closer against his godfather. He didn't want to act like such a baby but he couldn't help it. He knew that if he had acted like this in front of his uncle, he would've gotten beaten upon arriving home. But Sirius seemed understanding and he let Harry gather his senses as he stared wide eyes at this new world of magic.

"Remus Lupin?" a voice suddenly shouted, causing Harry to leap feet in the air. A tall, wiry man with a shock of startling red hair and glasses was walking towards them with a grin, a bustling woman at his side whose long, widely curly hair was also red.

Harry didn't like strangers, even ones that looked friendly. He quickly scooted himself to hide behind Sirius, his fists clutching the man's shirt with white knuckles.

"Arthur and Molly Weasley," Remus smiled warmly, shooting a glance at Harry from the corner of his eye before shaking the man's hand and accepting a hug from the woman. "We have you two been hiding? Haven't seen you around lately."

The man named Arthur laughed. "Been rather busy at the ministry. The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department has been rather busy this past week. They've been running me to and fro trying to keep things in order."

"How are the kids, Molly?" Sirius asked, his body completely relaxed even though he had a thirteen-year-old boy huddled behind him.

"Just fine," Molly answered before tutting: "Remus, you're looking rather thin, dear. Have you been eating enough lately?"

"Of cou—"

"You two must come to dinner tomorrow, I'm making a stew you're sure to love." Harry heard Molly said in a fussy mother sort of voice. He felt a smile press against his lips. The woman sounded likable enough—almost like how he imagined a mother should sound. He felt his shoulders begin to relax and he wondered if he could find the guts to come out from behind Sirius to meet this nice sounding woman. Would she treat him like she did Remus? Harry hoped so.

"Well, that sounds nice…" Sirius began.

"But we'll have to think about it," Remus hurriedly broke it, ignoring the bewildered look that Sirius gave him. "We have certain _obligations_ that we must attend to."

Sirius caught on with a dawn of comprehension. "Ah, yeah…we'd love to but maybe at a later date."

Harry wondered if the obligations they were talking about were him. He immediately felt ashamed. He dropped his head against Sirius back and sighed. Was he always going to be a burden?

"Who's that behind you, Sirius?" Arthur suddenly asked making Harry's heart seize in panic. "I didn't know you had any children."

Sirius chuckled, before reaching behind him to grasp a surprised Harry's arm, effectively pulling him to the front. Harry forced himself not to cower in the sudden 'spotlight'. "Meet my godson, Harry…" Sirius looked around quickly before lowering his voice. "Harry Potter. We're adopting him."

Arthur's eyes widened and Molly gasped.

"You f-found h-him?" Arthur whispered hurriedly. "Does the Ministry know?" he asked but was interrupted by Molly.

Molly blinked quickly, shooting a glare at her husband. "Is he really? Oh yes, I see the resemblance—uncanny." The woman smiled gently at Harry who squirmed before immediately looking down. "Of course you can come tomorrow as well; you're looking awfully thin and peaky. I have a son who is your age and a daughter who is just a year younger, I'm sure you'd like to meet some kids your age—hang on, dearie." The woman looked around before shouting boisterously, "Ron! Come over here and bring your brothers and sister."

Harry felt like melting. He looked pleadingly at Remus but the man only smiled as though nothing was wrong. Harry suddenly felt nauseous and swallowed convulsively just before a group of red heads ran over. Two of them were twins, Harry could tell, with mischievous looks in their cobalt blue eyes and billion freckles covering the faces. The next boy must have been Ron though he was a great deal taller than Harry. He too had blue eyes and red hair and a ton of freckles. Than Harry's eyes froze and the strangest sensation came over him. The girl standing next to Ron was small and whippet thin with large blue eyes, a shade lighter than the boys, with cork screw curls of violent red hair. Her freckles, though fewer than the boys', were still many. She blushed under Harry's gaze but Harry found that he couldn't look away like he tried to force himself to.

"This is Fred and George, Harry, and Ron, and my only daughter, Ginerva." Molly spoke as though she didn't see Harry's dilemma. Her voice sounded proud. "I have three others. Two have already left the house and Percy's around here somewhere. Ginerva's my only girl."

"Ginny," the girl corrected with a shy smile and her voice came to Harry's eyes like the sweetest bells in a spring breeze that made his mouth go dry.

Harry felt his knees go weak and he took step back, until he was against Sirius' chest again. He didn't notice the smirk and knowing look that Sirius and Remus exchanged over his head. Harry felt a small smile break across his own face and he forced himself to speak: "Harry," he said in a shaky voice and immediately all four red heads eyes shot to forehead.

"You mean Harry Potter?" Ron sputtered, voicing the rest of his siblings' thoughts. "_The _Harry Potter?!"

Harry felt his body suddenly doused in confusion as he nodded hesitantly.

"Ronald!" Molly snapped.

Fred and George looked excited.

"Do you—"

"Have that—"

"Scar like a lightning bolt?" They both finished in unison.

Harry saw Ginny lean forward in what could have been rapture.

Harry nodded slowly again.

"Can we see it?" Ginny asked.

"Ginerva!" Her mother scolded. "He's not a new attraction at the zoo that you go and stare at."

Ginny rolled her eyes but her face flushed bright red in her embarrassment.

"Can we see it anyways?" Ron bounced on his toes in unconcealed curiosity.

Harry slowly pushed up his beanie hat and uncontrolled fringe, gracing the Weasley family with a good glimpse of his puckered scar.

"Wicked." Fred, George and Ron whispered in awed unison as Remus quickly pushed the beanie back into place as though worried someone else would notice—why that mattered, why any of this mattered was totally beyond Harry

"That's enough!" Molly demanded, scooping Harry in a swift hug that made him stiffen in fright at the unexpected move. "You poor thing, no wonder you look so sad."

"Um, Molly…" Remus cleared his throat in his attempt to rescue Harry.

"Mum, he can't breathe!" Ron complained. Molly immediately released Harry who stepped back again, this time until he was once again behind Sirius but still able to look at the Weasley daughter.

Mrs. Weasley looked somewhat embarrassed. "Ron, dear, why don't you give Harry a tour of Diagon Alley, I'm sure he'd like that."

Truthfully, Harry wasn't sure if he'd like that at all, but if it meant making friends, especially with the pretty girl, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

He looked up at Sirius and Remus who exchanged quick looks before nodding and smiling.

"Keep your hat on," Remus murmured as Harry past. Harry nodded.

"Come on, Mate," Ron grabbed his arm and pulled away from his guardians and into the streets of Diagon Alley. "I'll take you to the Quidditch store."

"Quidd-ditch?" Harry stuttered over the word. "What's that?"

Ron looked scandalized. "You don't know what Quidditch is? Merlin, that's awful."

Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Quidditch is everything to Ron," Ginny said in explanation. "I'll bet he'd learn fast though."

Harry blinked. "Why?"

"Well, your dad was an amazing Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so it's in your blood. But you look more like a seeker to me."

"Seeker?" Harry asked, greedily packing away the tidbit of information she had given him about his dad.

"The most important player on the team."

Harry couldn't help but puff out his chest a little. "Really? Do you really think so?"

Ginny blushed again and nodded.

"Harry, look!" Ron interrupted their conversation to train Harry's gaze to look at a sleek looking broom hanging in seemingly mid-air in the window of the Quidditch shop. Harry looked at it in incomprehension. Why would someone want something so nice and expensive looking to clean their floor with?

Ron pressed his nose to the glass. "It's called a Firebolt—the fastest broom yet—even faster than the Nimbus 2000."

Harry joined the other boy shoulder to shoulder with Ron, his brain quickly putting the puzzle pieces together. "You mean Quidditch is a game of flying brooms?" he asked in surprise. "Wow."

Ron nodded with a grin. "Yep. You fly in this pit and there are two teams per game. Each team gets three hoops on their side of the field, each hoop is worth a different amount of points. The Two Chasers are the people who have to score the Quaffle into the opposite's team's hoops."

"Like basketball?" Harry asked, trying to picture what the boy was telling him in his head.

"What's basketball?" Ron asked but didn't wait for an answer. "Anyway, there's one Keeper per team and that person protects their own hoops from the other team. The two Beaters protect their own seeker and attempt to throw the other team off with bludgers."

"Bludgers?"

"Bloody violent balls that'll break your bones if you get hit. It's a good distraction."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "And what does the Seeker do?"

"The Seeker is the most important player on the team. There's only one. They have to catch the snitch. If they catch that, their team wins!"

"What's a snitch?" Harry felt a bit of excitement flutter in his chest. This sounded even more exciting than soccer!

"A little golden ball with wings. Super fast and wicked hard to see. That's why the seeker has to be really fast and have really good reflexes."

"Sounds like fun," Harry said, looking back at the broom with new-found interest.

"If you ever come to my house, we can play if you want." Ron offered.

Harry brightened. "Your m-mum invited my guardians and me to dinner tomorrow. Maybe then?" Harry then hesitated. "But…but I don't know how to ride a broom…"

"We'll teach you," Ginny said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sure you could get the hang of it."

Harry smiled for the second time that day. "I can't wait!"

***

Sirius shrunk the bags he was holding and pocketed them, feeling satisfied from the items they had brought for Harry. He was ready to head to muggle London for the clothes. "Maybe we should stop by the Owlery and get Harry a owl so he can communicate with his friends and then with us when he goes off to Hogwarts."

Remus nodded. "That's a good idea. Then we can find Harry and take him to Ollivander's for a wand so I can start tutoring him. I wonder if we could talk to Dumbledore and see if we could get the trace lifted off of Harry so he won't get in trouble with the Ministry. It _is_ special circumstances."

Sirius made a noise of agreement, already heading off for the Owlery. Once near the shop, his eyes immediately picked out the perfect owl for Harry. It was a thing of beauty—a white snowy owl with black speckled feathers and large brown eyes. Sirius pointed it out to Remus who immediately had the same opinion.

Remus gave a low whistle as he gently rubbed the owl's head through the cage bars. The creature cocked her head in content. "Sure is a pretty thing."

"Amen to that. Let's get her, Harry'll love her."

"I thought you wanted to get Harry a dog." Remus mused as his hand continued to stroke the soft feathers.

"We'll let him pick that one out himself." Sirius said quickly, smiling to himself. Dogs were the best gift to give a shy boy. And if Harry happened to pick out a large dog, than it offered an added bonus of protection.

When they walked out of the Owlery with their purchased creature, Sirius was surprised to see Harry running towards them. For a moment, Sirius' heart skipped, fearing something bad had happened. But there was no mistaking the grin on Harry's face as he called out his guardian's names.

"Look what this shop lady gave me!" Harry practically squealed holding up a tiny ball of fluff the color of pale lavender.

"What the heck is that?" Sirius asked poking it hesitantly.

"A Pigmy Puff," Remus smiled. That was when the thing moved and a pair of large emerald eyes stared at him above a little, piggish nose.

"The lady said it matched my eyes and that I could keep it without any cost. Then she thanked _me_ and patted my head."

"She heard us say his name," Ron amended but didn't look jealous at all. "She gave me and Ginny one, too!"

Ron held out a yellow puff ball and Sirius saw Ginny cradling something a bright pink.

Sirius did his best not to let his lips curl in disgust. "She gave you purple?"

Harry shrugged. "It was either that or this dark green color." Harry pulled a face before letting the thing climb up and settle on his shoulder. "I hate the color green."

That comment alone made Sirius forgive the lady all together. He puffed out his chest proudly and grinned. "That's my boy!" he crowed, pulling Harry into a tight, one armed hug, making the Puff squeak.

Harry looked up at him with a confused expression. "You're proud of me because I hate the color green?" he asked, bewildered.

Sirius saw Remus roll his eyes. "You got that right, kiddo."

Harry smiled, his confusion showing on his face.

"Forget it, Harry," Remus said with a quick glare. "Sirius would still be proud of you even if you _loved_ the color green." Sirius heard the underlying meaning and swallowed hard.

"Sure," he said unconvincingly.

The entire conversation went over Harry's head.

***_Harry _

Harry had never felt so happy in his life. With his Pygmy Puff hiding in his hoodie pocket, he followed his guardians through muggle London in the wordless amazement on how much they had spent on clothes. They were now heading back to Diagon Alley to pick up Harry a wand and Floo back home.

Harry didn't really know what to think about getting a wand of his own. Receiving this wand seemed to be the cement to everything else. Getting this piece of magic seemed to be the final yes to this whole new world.

Though his leg was beginning to ache and pained him with each step, he couldn't help but grin. All seemed right with the world. Several minutes later, Harry found himself standing in front of a dusty, old looking shop. He stared in apprehension at the door than back at his guardians.

"Go on, Harry." Remus coaxed him. "Mr. Ollivander is quirky but nice. Sirius and I have to run to the Apocrathy for some potion ingredients. Only take a few minutes."

Harry nodded, his heart fluttering with nerves. He handed his Pygmy Puff over to Sirius, who took it somewhat in disgust. He watched his guardians move away and then turned to enter the shop.

_Wham! _Harry found himself bouncy backwards off a girl his height with bushy brown hair and a round face.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly. "Are you alright?"

The girl quickly brushed herself off than lifted her hazel eyes to look balefully at Harry. Then her eyes widened.

"Holy crickets—you're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed than quickly regained control of herself.

"I've read about you in Hogwarts: A History and in the Daily Prophet. You were missing for nearly thirteen. That makes you the same age as me—we'll be going to Hogwarts together. I'm Hermione Granger."

"I-l'm in a book?" Harry asked faintly, feeling lightheaded.

"Or course," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "You're the Boy-Who-Lived. It's not every day a baby survives the Avada Kadavera curse and gets away with it with only a scar on his forehead."

"Survive?" Harry felt as though his world had narrowed dangerously. "You-you know about my p-parents then?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Well, yes, they were killed the same night You-Know-Who tried to kill you."

Harry could barely breathe; he had to place a hand on the wand shop window to steady himself.

Hermione suddenly looked at him with a critical face. "Are you all right? You look awful."

Harry nodded than turned slowly, heading into the shop with leaden feet.

***_Remus_

"This is damaging to my manhood." Sirius groaned, holding out the insulting Puff at arm's length.

"For goodness sake, Sirius," Remus scolded, handing over the clerk several gold galleons. "You're drawing more attention to yourself doing that more than anything."

Reluctantly, Sirius pulled the tiny creature to his chest, where it snuffled than gripped onto his shirt with tiny claws. "Embarrassing," Remus heard the man mutter.

"Harry should be finishing anytime." Remus hurried quickly from the dark shop and his heart dropped when he saw Harry sitting slumped against the brick wall of Ollivander's. "Sirius!"

Both men hurried over to Harry who raised his head to show Remus a dreadfully white face.

"Good god, Harry," Remus gasped, dropping his Apocrathy bags. "What happened?"

Harry was trembling as though cold. "I want to go home," he said in a weak voice.

"All right, okay…" Remus grabbed Harry's arm and Sirius took his other and lifted the boy to his wobbling legs. However, the moment they had Harry straightened, the young wizard let out a soft cry of pain, his head falling back and his eyes rolling up, a brand new wand fell from his limp fingers.

"Whoa," Sirius, quickly grabbing the wand and pocketing it.

Remus placed a hand on the boy's forehead, pushing away the beanie. Harry's skin was clammy and damp with sweat. "Lift him, Sirius—we got to get him home."

"It's Harry Potter!" the ear-splitting shout rang in Diagon Alley as though it was the only sound. People froze and stared as the woman who had been standing near them and watching curiously pointed, obviously having spotted the scar shaped like lightning on Harry's forehead.

"Shit," Sirius, lifting Harry's flaccid body.

Wizards and witches began to swarm, cameras began to flash—it was absolute chaos. Remus pushed people aside rather mercilessly, a snarl on his lips as he made a path for Sirius. It seemed to have taken an eternity to make it to the Floo networks but when they did, Sirius didn't hesitate to bellow the Potter Manor before disappearing in a whirl of green flame.

Remus was quick to follow suit and was somewhat relieved, somewhat confused to see Harry standing in the entry way without any assistance.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked immediately. "What happened?"

Harry grimaced. "I have a headache." He half spoke, half whimpered.

Remus exchanged glances with Sirius who shrugged, looking anxious. "Do you want me to get a pain potion?"

Harry shook his head slowly—almost disturbingly slowly. He watched as the boy looked up than stiffened, his eyes glazing over and becoming distant.

"Harry?" Sirius asked, frowning. "Are you all right?"

Nothing. Harry didn't even flinch a response.

"Harry? Harry!"

Harry blinked a couple times, his eyes focusing on Remus. "I want to go home."

"You are home." Remus countered slowly.

"No. I want to go back to the states. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to learn magic."

Shocked silence followed by the disbelieving laugh of Sirius. "What? You want to go back to your abusive relatives?"

"They don't abuse me!" Harry shouted back, his fists balling.

"That's rich," the animagus threw his arms up in the air. "Then would you mind explaining the scars on you back or the stab wound on your knee."

The glass window in the door exploded behind Sirius and Remus and both men ducked in surprise.

"Would you mind explaining to me why everyone knows my name?" Harry snarled back, completely oblivious to the damage he had caused.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Remus interrupted quietly, not wanting Sirius to intervene with his temper. He had no idea where this was going or how it had gotten to this point in the first place. Harry was obviously feeling very upset—but was he really upset enough to want to go back to an abusive home?

Harry's face blazoned red right before he flung the wand he had bought at Ollivander's at his guardians. "I don't want this piece of shit!" he yelled before turning on his heel to run for the staircase. "I hate you!"

The slam of the bedroom door made Remus flinch. Several seconds went by before Remus watched his best friend's face go horribly red.

"GO TO YOUR ROOOOMMM!" he bellowed at the top of his voice, making Remus cringe.

A moment, then: "I'M ALREADY IN MY ROOM!" Harry shouted back before slamming his door again.

Silence.

"Nicely handled, Sirius," Remus said sarcastically. "Couldn't have done better myself."

Sirius peeled the Pygmy Puff of his shirt as though he had just remembered the creature was still clinging to him; he looked as though he was about to fling Harry's purple pet against the wall.

"Sirius, just give me the Puff," Remus cautioned, not wanting to add animal murder to Harry's list of reasons why he hated his guardians. Sirius threw the puff at Remus who caught it deftly, feeling a tad bit sorry for the poor thing.

The puff immediately clung to the middle of his chest, making small whimpering noises.

Sirius sighed and ran a calloused hand through his hair. "What did we do wrong?" he moaned, slumping against the wall. "One moment, he's about to pass out, the next moment he hates us worse than Voldemort."

Remus thought for a moment. "You know, Sirius…maybe he really doesn't know _anything _about his life…about what happened with Voldemort and the night at Godric's Hollow. I mean, he didn't know magic was actually real till us."

"Shit." Was the only response the dark haired man gave.

They stood or, in Sirius' case, sat in several minutes of quiet contemplation. Remus was the first one to speak.

"You really need to stop swearing around Harry or he's going to get a mouth as foul as yours. What would Lily say?"

Sirius let out a breathy, humorless laugh. "She wouldn't say anything. She'd hexed me until Kingdom Come."

Both men chuckled as two floors above them, a lonely little boy cried himself to sleep.

***

"Hard night?" Sirius asked, pushing a cup of dark tea towards Remus' sagging body.

"You would know," Remus grumbled his sarcasm evident. He placed his hands around the ceramic cup of his dark tea but not taking a drink, appreciating the warmth against his hands. "All that paperwork…who knew it would take so much to adopt a child?" The tired man scowled. "Thanks for staying up and helping me, you prat," he added mordantly.

"It's not like I _meant _to fall asleep." The animagus protested with a slight pout. "Besides, you can't ever really finish the damn paper work until Harry consents to sign it."

Remus snorted and took a sip, not wanting to delve into yesterday's fiasco. He didn't know whether or not Harry still hated them, or whether he was willing to speak about what happened for he hadn't even seen the boy yet this morning on his way down to the kitchen. Remus cocked his head suddenly, "Is that music I hear?"

Sirius nodded slightly, looking bemused. "It's Harry. He's playing the piano."

Remus blinked in shock. "Harry? Playing the piano?"

"Yep. He's been doing that all morning. He hasn't ate, hasn't said a word. Just keeps playing and playing—I watched him for a while. I tried to talk to him about what happened yesterday but he just ignored me. I think he plays with his emotions. When he first started, the music was loud and fast—like he was still really angry. And now…well it's just monotone." Sirius looked almost pleased with his insightfulness than his face immediately fell as his thoughts deepened about his godson.

The werewolf sighed at the worried look on his friend's face, knowing that his own expression mirrored it. "He's good."

"Really good." Sirius hesitated than leaned forward, speaking in a low voice. "He hates us."

"Now Sirius…"

"I know he does. He hasn't even acknowledged my presence since yesterday. He ignored everything I've said…"

"Let him get used to his surroundings. We're dealing with an abused child. He trust will come—whatever made him react the way he did, he'll tell us in his own time. His trust will come."

"Very slowly," Sirius growled impatiently. "Whatever happened has to be eating at him, we can't let him stew in his depression."

"He's also thirteen," Remus continued as though Sirius had said nothing. "He's a young teenager. An abused teenager who appears to be a very intelligent boy. Combine intelligence with abuse and a fresh pubescence. What do you get?"

Sirius leaned back into his chair. "A hell of a lot of emotions." Then he smiled. "He's not intelligent. He's a genius."

"No." Remus shook his head. "Intelligent."

"And a damn good wizard. I still think we should force him to talk."

Remus took a sip of tea. "Patience is a very good virtue."

"Says you," Sirius smirked.

Remus couldn't help but smile. "You're hopeless—you know that don't you? Absolutely, positively hopel—"

There was a sudden, wince-inspiring bang on the piano keys, creating a group of sour notes followed by a dull thump, like a body hitting the floor. Silence.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other in alarm than simultaneously leapt to their feet, sprinting for the common room.

***_Sirius_

Blood had splattered the ivory keys of the grand piano, creating a morbid contrast to otherwise serene instrument. The piano bench had tipped over and lay askew on the wood work floor. Harry was on the floor between the bench and the actual piano, convulsively and seizing. Froth had gathered at both corners of his mouth, which gaped open in a silent scream. The brilliant green eyes rolled, glazed and unseeing, in their sockets before disappearing into the back of his head until only the whites shown. Strangled choking noises filled the horrified silence of the room.

"He's going to hurt himself!" Remus yelled, breaking the shocked silence, snapping Sirius from his frozen state.

Sirius leapt into heart pounding action, flinging back the bench so that it skidded across the room. He pulled the boy away from the piano as he knelt on the floor and cradled Harry tightly against his chest as the child continued to jerk uncontrollably, his mouth working in between the gagging sounds. His iris' had reappeared but that frightened Sirius even more for the boy showed no sign of recognition, instead they stared vacantly straight through Sirius.

"Moony, what's happening?" Sirius demanded in a strangled voice. Tears of panic stung his eyes as he pinned the boy's boney arms to keep them from flailing.

"I'm fire-calling Poppy," Remus backed away several steps before turning to run for the other room, leaving Sirius alone with Harry's convulsing body. The froth dripping from his mouth and down his chin was suddenly tinted red. Bloody red.

"Oh, god," Sirius stuck a finger into the boy's mouth and felt hot liquid pooling around the boy's gums. "Hang on buddy. Everything's going to be okay, you're going to be okay." Sirius murmured to the child who gave no lucid response. He swiped at the blood oozing from the small gash on Harry's temple. Suddenly, Harry's head jerked so that it hit Sirius' chest and the tremors that snaked his muscles seemed to transfer to Sirius' own body for he had begun to shake as well. He didn't know what was happening but he knew that it couldn't be good. He prayed to all those deemed deity that the gods would forgive him for not checking on Harry last night—it had to have been his fault.

Suddenly, Harry stilled, his body falling limp and boneless. His eyes slowly closed and there was tense silence. Sirius held his breath.

"Harry?"

Brilliant green eyes appeared, looking somewhat groggy but fully lucid.

"Harry, buddy, are you okay?"

Harry moaned. "Si-Sirius…?"

"I'm here, kiddo. I'm here." Sirius loosened his grip for fear of cutting off blood supply to any part of Harry's body. They sat like that for several minutes when Harry's eyelids began to droop and his head fall back.

"Harry?" Sirius' throat closed convulsively. "Harry, can you hear me?"

No response.

"Come one, kiddo, don't you do that agai—"

Harry's entire body suddenly stiffened than seized, vomit creating a disgusting slug trail down Harry's cheek and Sirius' sleeve. Out of pure, gut instinct, Sirius twisted the boy onto his side so Harry wouldn't choke but kept a firm grip as his small godson began to once again convulse in a sickening fashion.

Sirius could only groan in fear, begging for anyone would hear. "Remus, hurry!"

**Well, did you like it??? Okay, just so you know—Pygmy Puffs were like the Twins invention but I don't care. I also know that they are supposed to be various shades of pink and purple or something like that, but again, this is my story so I'm twisting things around a bit. I also want to point out that I took a tiny bit from Lilo and Stitch just for the heck of it.**

**Question: I would love to hear from my readers some name suggestions for Harry's Pygmy Puff—my muse seems to be evading me on that subject. I'm also open to suggestions on Ron's and Ginny's but I'm mainly focusing on Harry's**

**Another question: I wonder if anyone spotted anything 'abnormal' in the scene where they first arrive back from Diagon Alley and have a bit of a fight. Does anyone know what happened to Harry when he spaced out momentarily? I'm curious to see if anyone knows. ;)**

**Again, thank you for reading and I would absolutely love to hear from you. It fuels my writing and I will gladly consider ideas, complaints, suggestions, or something that you want more of or that you want to read in future chapters. FYI, if you have a complaint, please make it constructive. I would greatly appreciate that.**

**I really am trying to evenly divide point of views between Remus and Sirius but I am having certain difficulties. Remus holds a special place in my heart and though I like Sirius a lot, my heart only belongs to our beloved werewolf. But I want Harry to gain a relationship from both of them. Just thought you ought to know.**

**Until next time and Happy Literacy**

**Stroy2Tell**


	6. It's Hard to believe in Love

**Definitely not as long as the previous chapter but i wanted to post this as soon as possible so i definitely will be making it up next chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

A pair of brilliantly green eyes, groggy and hooded, watched him without any sort of recognition. Sirius furrowed his brow, waiting with bated breath for Harry to speak or show some sort of sign of him being lucid. Harry's face looked devoid of any pain and stress; instead it looked very sleepy and dreamy which the animagus thought that was somewhat odd but unsure if this was typical. Sirius, while waiting for Harry to completely wake, got a really good look at his godson without the glasses and he realized that the boy's face looked oddly naked without the spectacles. A sparse sprinkling of cinnamon colored freckles dotted his upper cheeks and the bridge of his nose, which otherwise would have been overshadowed by the round glasses. They gave Harry a cute, boyish look that made him look younger than his thirteen years.

_He's going to be a very handsome boy, _Sirius thought suddenly, knowing that Lily's and James' looks combined would have girls scrambling for the young wizard by his sixteenth birthday. Where Lily's red hair and green eyes and James' black hair and hazel eyes had complemented each other, Harry's green eyes and black hair were stark contrast in color and gave him a rather exotic look that no little boy should be allowed to have.

Harry blinked lazily and a sleepy smile danced on his thin lips and he arched his back slightly in a stretch. Sirius felt a sudden relief fill his inner being and he leaned forward with a hasty expression. "Harry?" he took hold of one of Harry's limp hands. The small, boney fingers remained flaccid. "Hey, kiddo, how're you feeling?"

Harry gave no response, only another excruciatingly slow blink. Sirius suddenly realized that Harry was still a tad high on the powerful potion Poppy had administered early to relax his seizing muscles. Though the potion barely did any good then, it seemed to be doing its job now, causing his godson to be in a somewhat muddled state.

"Stupid potion," Sirius grumbled.

Another very, very slow blink and another distant smile and Harry closed his eyes as Sirius watched him drift back to sleep.

_At least the boy wasn't in any pain._ Sirius reasoned with himself, though feeling slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to speak to his godson with any type of lucidity. He released Harry's hand back onto the mattress and sighed tiredly. He rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers in a thoughtful gesture as he let his mind wonder back to the conversation from earlier this morning…

_"Epilepsy?" Remus leaned back into his chair, looking exhausted and drained. "Isn't that a muggle disease?"_

_ "What is it?" Sirius demanded, having never heard the word before but understanding what 'disease' meant. _

_ "A disorder of the nervous system. Causes many types of seizures." Poppy answered grimly._

_ "Why didn't he tell us?" Sirius groaned, unable to control his rising voice, knowing that his godson wouldn't stir anyways. He looked down at the unconscious boy, mind racing. They had laid Harry on his side in fear of him choking for he had vomited mucus. Poppy had informed them that it kept Harry's airway clear and prevented any vomit from entering the lungs. Sirius rubbed the child's arm comfortingly as his godson continued to jerk and twitch, brilliant green eyes staring vacant and wide._

_ "Fear?" Poppy suggested as she measured out a thin, cloudy blue potion._

_ "I thought seizures were only supposed to last a couple of minutes?" Remus furrowed his brow, his hand gently smoothing the sweat-soaked bangs from Harry's forehead as the boy made a choking noise from the back of his throat. Saliva pooled beneath his mouth just before a slug of thick vomit puddled on the sheets. Remus banished the sickness with a flick of his wand and ran a warm cloth over Harry's face._

_ "Depends," Poppy answered his early question as she brought the potion eye-level to check the measurement._

_ "On what?"_

_ `"Anything. Upon average, a seizure can last seconds to five minutes. Anything lasting over five minutes is considered potentially dangerous and it should be considered on whether emergency help should be contacted."_

_ Sirius felt nauseous. "Poppy, I hate to burst your bubble, but it's been more than an hour!"  
_

_ "The longest recorded seizure lasted 49 minutes." The witch answered calmly. "Yes, the length of Harry's seizure is very unusual but that could be the cause of stress, a change in environment and his injuries that he sustained the other night. But he has us monitoring him each second. As long as Harry's getting oxygen, he should be fine. Your greatest worry should be when and where a seizure can occur. He could be flying on a broom stick, or going down the stairs, or doing something as simple as retrieving something from a small pantry. Each scenario presents a serious injury that could occur."_

_ "You mean you can't make the epi-epile-that disease go away?"_

_ "Epilepsy. It's a muggle disease. Nothing has ever been created to counteract the seizures. He can take muggle pills to help control how often he could have a seizure, but it wouldn't do much help."_

_ "Why?" Remus demanded, fear making the amber flecks in his eyes glow with his inner wolf._

_ Poppy paused, thinking deeply. "Listen carefully—you see, for wizards and witches, the immune system is supported by the magic running in their blood. When they get sick or injured or a foreign substance is detected in the body, the magic gives the immune system a significant boost that makes the healing process much faster than that in a muggle. When potions on administered to a sick witch or wizard, the immune system detects the other healing magic in the potion and is very quick to absorb and help the potion along. _

"_Now, here's the down side. When you administer any sort of muggle medicine to that of a witch or wizard, the immune system can detect no magic in the medicine and therefore, instead of helping the medicine along, it attacks it, weakening the muggle substance for the immune system sees it as a foreign substance and therefore a threat. Now, the immune system can't fully destroy the muggle medicine for the medicine creates no actual damage, but it hinders it greatly, making it almost ineffectual for to the magical person taking it."_

_Sirius' head was whirling. Though he didn't understand most of it, he caught the general gist: there is nothing really out there to help Harry's condition. He banged his fist against the wall, the pain and solid thump bringing him momentary relief from the stress. Remus looked at him sympathetically then dropped his gaze back down to Harry, a hand gently rubbing Harry's bare back._

_Poppy continued: "Now I can give you a magical alert bracelet or necklace, whichever Harry prefers, that will set an alarm to alert you of a serious seizure—otherwise, severe injuries can occur," she gestured to the bandage on Harry's temple where he cracked his head on the piano. _

_Remus cocked his head. "Are there times when the seizures are not serious?"_

_There was a pause for Harry's body suddenly contracted into a single, violent spasm. A thin line of blood ebbed from the corner of his mouth before he went still again besides the occasional twitch. _

"_Oh, you poor dear," the medi-witch murmured. "He bit his tongue." She explained and waved her wand quickly. The blood instantly vanished and Remus and Sirius suspected the wound on the tongue as well._

"_There are many types of seizures, Remus," Poppy went on. "Tonic Clonic Seizure or Grand Mal Seizure is the type of seizure that entails convulsions, falling, and loss of unconsciousness. The signs that sometimes precede these types of seizures include muscle stiffening, clenched jaw, vomiting, pallor, eyes rolling back—the list continues. Some seizures can be pretty violent. But most often, a child has simple Petit Mal Seizures which can include staring, difficulty breathing, unresponsiveness, minor twitching. These only last seconds but if not treated correctly, can happen up to a hundred times a day."_

_Sirius felt a sudden realization. "That must had been what happened in the hall when we had got back from Diagon Alley. He was really pale and acted a bit strange, sort of moody right before."_

_Poppy nodded, clucking her tongue. "I will generate a list of information and symptoms that can be helpful to you for the future."_

"_I'm sure," Dumbledore spoke suddenly. "That Severus would be willing to work on creating a potion for the effects of this disease, for he played a crucial part of creating the Wolfsbane potion."_

_Sirius stiffened and glanced slowly at Snape who stood slightly away from the small group of adults, his eyes staring at Harry's twitching form, his face a sneering mask. His dark eyes flickered towards the headmaster before nodding deftly. _

"_I'll need a blood sample," the snarky man muttered._

_A voice inside Sirius' head that sounded suspiciously like Remus' chanted over and over: 'control yourself, control yourself, control yourself…'_

_***_

"Remus?"

The quiet voice made Remus' heart leap in relief. Harry was blinking quickly as though trying to clear his vision and the werewolf remembered his godson's glasses. He pushed them on and Harry looked at Remus in surprise.

"Where…where am I?"

"Hospital Wing, Hogwarts." Remus answered, feeling anxious. "How're you feeling?"

Harry shrugged rather reluctantly, keeping his green eyes averted from Remus' blue-green ones. The boy sat up slowly, the sheet falling away from his body and onto the floor, and began to pat himself down as though looking for an injury.

"Harry?"

Harry stopped his examination and looked up at Remus with wide eyes as the dawning realization lit in his green eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

Of all the things that Remus was expecting Harry to say, that wasn't one of them. "What?"

"I didn't mean…I'm sorry…it-it's hard to c-c-control…" Harry was breathing fast now, his green eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "I can try har-harder…I'm really, really, sorry…"

Remus grabbed Harry's shoulders reflexively in an attempt to calm the boy and he instantly regretted it when his godson flinched. Remus released him and fell back against his chair, watching Harry with a bemused expression.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Remus asked in bewilderment. "Why are you sorry?"

Harry blinked as though Remus was asking the most ridiculous question. "The Dursleys were always mad when I had a se—when _it _happened. They usually sent me to my cupboard for two days without food."

Remus could barely reign in his emotions at the smidgen of information that Harry had given him. "They _punished _you for having a _seizure_!?"

Harry flinched. "But—but they didn't _know_ it was a s-s-s-seizure…they thought it was, well, me just doing…f-fre-_freaky_ things."

"_Freaky things?"_ Remus struggled with himself as the monster within reared its ugly head in rage. He felt his fingers twitch towards the wand in his pocket before he drew in a deep calming breath. "Harry, you do realize that what you have is a well-known muggle condition that is beyond your control?"

"I know." Harry answered simply, fingering the hem of his stripped pajama shirt. "But my aunt and uncle didn't. So I studied it at the public library…I even talked to Dr. Roseberry about it and he helped me a lot. I usually knew when it was about to happen…I think the Doctor called it an aur-aur-aura? So I could lie down until it was over and I didn't hurt myself most of the time. But, well, sometimes it just happens with no warning."

"Like when you were playing the piano?"

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"Don't be." Remus said firmly. "And Harry?"

Harry looked at him with those piercing jewels, stripping the werewolf of his exterior as Harry searched him for the truth.

Remus drew in a deep breath. "You should have told us." The man said in a firm and gentle voice. "We wouldn't have been angry at all. In truth, we probably would've taken you to Poppy to see if there would be a possible cure. We're not angry now, either, but we were both very, very worried because we didn't know what was happening."

The boy opened his mouth to speak but the sound of the hospital wing doors flinging open made Harry jump and snap his mouth shut.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed exuberantly. "You're aw—_oof!"_ Sirius' foot caught the edge of a metal bed post and he stumbled before sprawling on the floor in a rather undignified manner.

"Padfoot!" Remus couldn't help but gasp unsure of whether to laugh or rush to his friend's aid.

A small snicker to his right though made him pause.

"You think that was funny?" Sirius growled playfully making Harry freeze in disconcertion, a unsure expression on his face.

Sirius stalked towards the bed, his features mockingly filled with rage. Harry shrunk back, eyes wide.

"Sirius! For Merlin's sake you're frig—"

Sirius attacked Harry with his hands, mercilessly tickling the boy until Harry was shrieking uncontrollably with laughter, squirming in an effort to release himself from his crazy godfather. Remus almost protested but snapped his mouth shut when the sound of Harry's carefree laughter reminded him of Lily. The green eyes that were now sparkling with tears of mirth were no longer Harry's but Lily's. Remus sighed nostalgically.

"St-stop—_please_—stop!" Harry gasped between laughs, his face bright red. The child fought Sirius' hold and unpitying fingers.

"I'm sorry," Sirius spoke coyly above Harry's peals of laughter. "What was that? I couldn't hear you?"

"_Stop_!"

"What? You want me to stop?" Sirius paused, his hands still pinning his godson, and Harry went limp, breathing heavily and blinking fast.

"Yes, please!" Harry said breathlessly.

Sirius cocked his head. "Yes, you want me to continue?"

Harry shrieked as he was ruthlessly attacked again.

"_Sir-i-us!"_

There was a sudden crack and suddenly Sirius was on the floor, looking bewildered.

Harry sat up quickly, his face still red, as Remus straightened in shock and unsure of what had happened.

"I'm sorry." Harry spoke quickly, his face fearful. "I didn't mean to. Sometimes I just-just can't control it—I'm sorry, really, really sorry…"

Harry climbed out of bed, chest heaving.

"It was an accident…"Remus quickly tried to soothe the rattled boy.

Sirius sat up slowly and Remus watched with dread as a mischievous smile spread over the marauder's features.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, looking unsure of his godfather's sanity.

With a pop, a humongous, black dog took Sirius' place.

The look on Harry's shocked face made Remus laugh then quickly check himself when he realized that the idea that his godfather could transform into a dog might be a bit much for him.

Padfoot let out a loud bark and Harry jumped, eyes wide as the dog crept towards him in a stalking motion.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, looking to Remus for help.

"Now, Sirius," Remus tried to intervene for the welfare of his charge.

A sudden chase was underway. Surprisingly fast and lithe, Harry squealed with laughter as the dog bounded after him. Climbing over beds and sliding on slippery socked feet down the center aisle between the hospital cots, Harry gave Padfoot a run for his money. Remus, meanwhile, felt his heart pound on the verge of a heart-attack.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Remus spoke just loud enough to be heard, jogging to follow the two disasters waiting to happen. With Padfoot's booming barks and Harry's yells and Remus' shouting his cautionary words, the hospital wing was suddenly a place of chaos, sure to make the medi-witch have a paroxysm.

Speaking of the devil….

"SIRIUS BLACK!" the screeching brought both boys to a sudden halt. Padfoot's ears and tail drooped as Pomphrey stormed his way, her face red and pinched, and her wand at the ready. "HOW DARE YOU RILE UP MY PATIENTS IN SUCH A FASHION!"

Remus looked around quickly and noticed a little brown-haired girl with blue eyes the size of marbles in the bed at the far end of the wing, her arm wrapped in gauze and her face white with apprehension.

_Oops._

"AND YOU!" the woman spun on Remus who cowered and offered his hands in a show of innocence.

"I tried to stop them!" Remus said quickly in hopes of her sparing him. Sirius gave him a look of that blatantly said: _TRAITOR!_ He shrugged. Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Poppy drew in a heavy breath before whirling on Harry.

"Mr. Potter," she spoke in a more of a controlled voice. "I must ask you to return to your bed at once. You've had a very trying day and I dare say you need rest and potions."

Padfoot coughed in a dog-like laugh as Harry shuffled back to his bed dutifully, his eyes still bright from the chase. When he glanced back at Sirius, the dog rolled his eyes and let his tongue loll out of his mouth in a goofy grin.

Remus shook his head but Harry giggled as he climbed back onto his bed and pulled the sheet up over him. Sirius transformed back and walk calmly towards the bed, unaware of Poppy's severe glares and plopped down in the chair next to Remus who gave him a look.

"What?" Sirius demanded, a grin still plastered to his face.

"I swear, Sirius, people would think you were Harry's age with the way you acted sometimes."

Sirius waved him off. "You're just jealous, Moony 'cause you're too old to do anything that my young and viable body can do."

"Aren't you guys the same age?" Harry asked innocently, causing Sirius to put on a pout. Remus chuckled.

"He's just the boy who never grew up, Harry," Remus assured the child who brightened at that idea.

"Like Peter Pan?"

"Who?" Sirius puzzled.

"Muggle story," Remus explained. "About a boy who never grew up."

Sirius huffed and crossed his arms. They three sat in silence for several minutes, the only sounds were Poppy speaking soothingly to the little girl at the other end of the wing.

Harry fidgeted with his bed sheets, looking suddenly apprehensive. Sirius and Remus exchanged glances at the sudden change in mood and waited for Harry to gather the courage to speak. When he did, the words that came out would forever shock Remus to his dying day.

"Are my parents _really _dead?"

Frozen silence. Both men held they're breaths.

"Why, Harry?" Sirius was the first one to speak, his voice sounding pained.

Harry bit his lower lip before answering. "Well, I ran into this girl earlier today. She said that I was famous and all because I survived the same night that my parents died when I shouldn't 'ave." Tears filled Harry's eyes—but this time they were of a sadness that Remus knew too well. "She said they died protecting me. And well, I was thinking…you can't die for someone if you didn't love them…could you?"

"Harry," Remus spoke slowly. "You're parents loved you very, very much. But you have to remember, that they didn't die _because _of you, but _for _you."

"There's a difference, you know," Sirius added.

Harry nodded, obviously not having been bothered by the point Remus thought he was trying to get at. Harry's lower lip trembled and he clenched his fists as though steeling himself. "My parents…they…they really did love…love me?"

Another shocked silence and suddenly Sirius had gathered his charge into his arms. "Of course they did!" the man said, sounding appalled.

Remus added his own soothing words, rubbing Harry's thin back. "They were so proud of you. James was always boasting about how well you could walk and talk and do accidental magic and Lily always said you were the smartest little boy."

"R-really?" Harry said in disbelief.

"What did you think?" Remus asked, not expecting the answer that Harry was going to spill before him.

"My aunt and uncle…_they _always told me…._they _said that my parents were ashamed and embarrassed of me because I was a freak and did freaky things so they dumped me on the Dursley's front step because they didn't want me. Because _no one_ wanted me."

For several moments, Remus could only hear a distant buzzing as his mind attempted to process that information, his heart pounding so hard he was sure that his ribs were rattling its protest. Had Harry really grown with the belief that he had always been unloved and had been unceremonisouly abandoned by his parents because of his ability to do magic. What would it be like to know that your parents were still alive and kicking but didn't want you as their own son because of an ability you couldn't control? What would it be like to think that your parents hated you?

_"We _want you!" Remus said passionately.

Sirius clung to the boy as though he was the only lifeline he had. "Of course we do. And Lily and James wanted you as well!"

Harry sniffled. "Lily and James?" he asked.

A acidic like burst of anger exploded into a fire-y path through Remus' veins. He clenched his fists, willing himself to regain control of his inner wolf, but wanting more than anything to be able to transform and hunt down the lousy excuses for human beings.

"They were you parents' names." Remus said gently, his voice betraying his emotions. "And they loved you so very much. You were the whole world to them."

Harry burst into tears, sobbing as he clung to Sirius' shirt, his entire body sagging with what had to have been a very long overdue release. The tears glittered like shards of glass as they made erratic paths down Harry's cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut and his glasses pushed away from his face. Sirius buried his face into Harry's untamable tendrils of hair and rocked the boy as he cried.

A long time passed before Harry's sobs had subsided to silent tears then into a restless slumber. Sirius continued to hold the sleeping child, his face suddenly a dark mask of anger and turmoil. He looked over at Remus and Remus had to force himself not to shield back from the angry eyes that glowered in his direction but not directly at him.

"didn't you say that Harry's last soccer game was this Saturday?" he asked in a slow, calculating voice.

Remus nodded slowly, realization dawning on him.

"After Harry's game, I think it'll be high time to pay a visit to these so-called relatives of Harry's, don't you think?"

A slow, sadistic, rather wolfish smile spread across Remus' face, his eyes burning with amber. Revenge will be too sweet.

* * *

**Please drop me a review so I can know your thoughts and ideas for any improvements I may need. I still haven't got a name for Harry's Pygmy Puff and I welcome suggestions!!!**

**Until next time and Happy Literacy**

**Story2Tell  
**


	7. Hope and Fire

_I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain._

"_Where does discipline end? Where does cruelty begin? Somewhere between these, thousands of children inhabit a voiceless hell.__"_

_A true horror is a parent who is forced to live while their child no longer does._

"Is it just me or did Harry grow an inch or two this past week?" Sirius cocked his head at the boy who stood in front of a fussy Molly Weasley, looking shy with a bright red face. He was wearing some of the new clothes that had been purchased in Muggle London. The forest green shirt with the black and red design on the front complimented his green eyes and skin tone. The top was a tad big on him and when he moved, the shoulder of one side would slide partially down his arm but both Sirius and Remus had reasoned that it gave room for the boy to grow. He also wore a pair of khaki shorts with stylish side pockets and new trainers. Just a little more meat on his bones and he would look like a normal kid.

Remus followed Sirius' gaze and studied his new charge for a moment. "You know, I think he did…" he agreed with raised eyebrows, looking pleasantly shocked. "You know he's going to be tall. It's in his genes…James was bordering six foot three and Lily was pretty decent in height as well."

Sirius made a noise of doubt, "I don't know—he's so little."

"Well, James didn't get his growth spurt until he was almost fifteen. Remember how short he used to be?"

Harry looked over at both men as though he sensed they were talking about him. Dark circles shadowed those Jade colored eyes and he looked rather pale. Concerned for his godson, Sirius gestured for the boy to join them. The thirteen-year-old obliged rather slowly, turning away from Molly who had moved off to the kitchen to finish cooking.

Harry moved stiffly, as though sore from a long day's workout. Sirius felt guilty for tickling the boy that morning after hearing Poppy's explanation that Harry would suffer sore muscles and joints. A seizure is when someone's nerve-endings flare up, she had said, it's only logical that the person would suffer pain afterwards. _He must had been still a bit high on those potions,_ Sirius inwardly rationalized, but he knew he couldn't deny the fact that his earlier antics had not helped and maybe had worsened Harry's muscle pain.

Sirius patted the space between him and Remus and Harry gingerly eased into the spot, slumping rather bonelessly against the back cushions. Sirius threw an arm about the boy's thin shoulders, surprised that his godson didn't even flinch.

"Your shoe's untied," he said to Harry who shrugged lazily, his eyes staring unseeingly at the opposite wall. The glazed look in the boy's eyes told Sirius that was still slightly 'drunk' on potions. Sirius flicked his wand and the shoe strings assembled themselves into a tidy knot.

"Nice," Remus commented appreciatively.

"You sound surprised," Sirius joked quietly over Harry's head, pocketing his wand.

"I just wasn't prepared for the fact that you are proving yourself to be a very capable mother." Remus teased back and Sirius rolled his eyes as both men carefully adjusted Harry's gangly arms and legs as the boy had dropped off while they were speaking. Remus settled Harry's legs across his lap and Sirius tucked a couch pillow under Harry's head as it rested against his godfather's thigh. Sirius leaned back again, his fingers absentmindedly carding through Harry's black hair.

"Lovely sunset, don't you think?" Remus murmured as he tucked Harry's glasses into the front pocket of his shirt. The golden globe of a summer's end sun was making its final curtain call and was slowly bowing her head behind the hills of the horizon. Soft amber light danced through the trees as she embraced earth with the day's final warmth. A swath of pink, red, and orange now cloaked the oncoming twilight of the sky and the first evening star glittered faintly in the dying light.

"I _told_ you: Harry's not feeling well!" Ginny's voice came from above and the sound of pounding footsteps could be heard as several of the Weasley children made an appearance on the staircase.

Harry didn't even twitch.

Ron ran down the staircase and his expression became moody. "I thought Harry was going to play Quidditch with us today?" he complained.

Ginny appeared next to him, her face pink as she stole glances at Harry's sleeping form. "You never listen to me, Ron!"

"Shut it, Ginny! You're always such a big mouth—"

"Next time, Ron," Sirius quickly broke before a fight could ensue. "Harry's a bit off color today but we'll be back next week and he can spend the whole day flying if he so chooses."

Ron brightened up at that. "Really? Cuz that would be wicked brilliant if he could. I'd bet he's a goin' to be good with his dad so legendary and all!"

"James?" Sirius scoffed. "Legendary?"

Both Ron and Ginny nodded fiercely.

"Now let me tell you this, kids," Sirius began.

"Here we go…" Remus muttered under his breath. Sirius ignored him.

"It wasn't James Potter who was legendary," he insisted with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"Than who?" Ron asked in rapport. "Who?"

"Well, I—Sirius Orion Black—of course. I was the best beater that Hogwarts had even seen. I always was knocking those nasty Slytherins off their brooms left and right. If it wasn't for me, the Gryffindor team would have been in shambles. I was a natural _beast_."

Ron and Ginny didn't look entirely convinced.

Remus cleared his throat. "You might want to be careful on that high horse of yours, Sirius, before you fall and crack your skull open."

Sirius huffed. "You're just jealous," he grumbled.

"Were you on the Quidditch team, Mr. Lupin?" Ginny asked curiously.

Remus looked embarrassed. Twin spots of red blossomed on his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his head. "No, Ginny, I wasn't. Heights…well…that sort of stuff doesn't really agree with my stomach."

"Yeah, Moony is a rather delicate person." Sirius added for revenge.

Remus glared at his friend and would've walloped the side of his head if Harry wouldn't have been sleeping between them. "I am NOT delicate," Remus snapped then he turned a serene face to the two Weasley children and gave them a smile. "You see, I much rather prefer a good energetic game of chess."

"Energetic?" Sirius guffawed at the ceiling. "Yeah, you're sure to lose an eye with how violent those chess pieces get."

"Yeah, _pain_, love it!" Remus retorted back sarcastically. "You know it's only cool if you can get a scar out of it."

"Now you're finally getting it, Remus." Sirius slapped his forehead in mock relief.

"For your information and your lack of propriety, Sirius, I think we both can agree on the simple statement that I have enough scars as it is."

Silence and Sirius' countenance fell. Forgetting they had an audience, Sirius had enough sense to look slightly ashamed. He wasn't aware that his teasing words had that much affect on his friend. "That's not fair, Remus. You know I didn't mean it that way."

"I know." Remus grumped and Sirius figured his friend must be suffering from PMS—pre moon syndrome.

Sirius scrambled to lighten the suddenly dark situation. "Well, don't get me wrong or anything, but I was always under the impression that your manly scars were always what helped you hump all those wom—"

"Moving on!" Remus exclaimed, looking pointedly at Ron and Ginny who were listening to the two interestedly. "I beg you to remember the company we have right now."

"Oh, Moony, you don't have to beg," Sirius batted his eyelashes and Remus had to curve the urge to vomit.

"Really, Sirius, people are going to start thinking we're gay if you keep acting like that." Remus reprimanded but Sirius could tell he was forgiven. The animagus laughed quietly to himself.

"Who's to say we not?" He could tell Remus was beginning to get hot and bothered. His face was turning red and his eyes were flecked with more gold than amber.

"Sirius," Remus spoke in barely a whisper, as he always did when he got agitated. "I'm about to pull my wand out—"

"Remus, not in front of the children!" Sirius admonished in a mocking voice.

A sudden violent _bang _made Harry jerk awake with a gasp and a cloud of smoke created a haze in the Weasley's living room.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in there?" Shrieked an angry Molly Weasley. "Fred? George? Are you too experimenting again?" The red haired woman stormed in and froze at the peculiar sight.

Remus was on his feet, agitation clear on his face with the beginnings of shame creeping like a red lobster as it curled around his ears. Ginny and Ron were rolling on the floor in hysterics and poor Harry was looking blatantly shocked and very confused after having been dumped on the floor. He blinked owlishly at the others as though he wasn't sure if he should laugh or be angry.

"That was brilliant, Mr. Lupin!" One of the twins said reverently having just run into the scene. "Can you teach us that spell?"

"Over my dead body!" Molly cried, waving her wand to clear the air of magic smoke. "Really, you two are just a bunch of oversized kids!"

Sirius had remained sitting on the couch, attempting to stretch the ends of his hair so he could see their dilemma. Peering almost cross eyed at his bangs he noticed it finally. Not feeling remotely shocked for this kind of thing usually happened close to a full moon when he pushed Remus too far, he only grinned as he ran a hand through his bright orange hair, polka dotted with green. He froze though when he felt the soft rabbit ears gracing the top of his head. "Er, this is a new touch." He commented dryly.

Remus lowered his wand, blushing furiously. "My apologies, Sirius," he cleared his throat, looking as though he was near cowering under Molly's basilisk glare. "I shouldn't have let you get to me."

Sirius barked a laugh. "It's only ears and a new hair style, Remus."

"Erm…and you have the word idiot written all over your face," Ron butted in, snorting with another fit of laughter.

"Wonderful." Sirius pouted, unbeknownst to him that the rabbit ears drooped as he did so, causing all four Weasley children present to gasp and wheeze for breath as they broke into another round of uncontrollable laughter. Harry just looked bewildered and Remus realized Harry wasn't wearing his glasses.

Pulling the boy to his feet, he gave Harry his glasses. Harry shoved them up his nose and turned to look at his godfather. Harry leapt back with a wild yelp, eyes comically wide and shocked. "Bloody hell! What's _wrong_ with your _head_?" he demanded.

The only answer Harry received was laughter and tears and snorts while Sirius sat, with arms crossed and bunny ears drooping, a pout on his face as he glared at everyone.

"'s'not funny," he mumbled and even Remus began chuckling. Harry, still in state of bewilderment, hesitantly touched his godfather's hair. It felt real enough. He gave one of the rabbit ears a good yank to see if they'd come off like a costume accessory and jumped when Sirius let out a howl of pain.

"Merlin, Harry!" he yelled, clutching his floppy ears. "What'd you do that for?"

A smile slowly spread across Harry face and his emerald eyes glittered faintly with mirth. If Remus hadn't been watching, he never would've seen or heard the bubble of laughter that escaped the boy's lips.

It was like music, Remus internally decided. He could tell that Sirius had agreed for a reluctant smile spread over his face as well.

"Change me back, Moony," Sirius ordered moodily, his sense of humor long forgotten. He pointed to the infuriating and man-damaging ears and stood so that he towered over Remus. He tapped his foot impatiently.

"Um…" Remus fidgeted with his wand. "I don't know if I _can_."

"WHAT!" Sirius bellowed. "So I'm just going to have to walk around like this 'till the bloody spell just—_wears_—off! That could be fuckin' weeks!"

"Sirius!" Molly gasped at his foul language. "Do you need me to summon my bar of soap?"

"Mum, did that to me once, Mr. Black," Ron said sympathetically.

Sirius rolled his eyes but grudgingly admitted that he shouldn't have sworn in front of a group of children. He turned to his godson whose grin abruptly vanished as though he had been caught doing something wrong. He stiffened under Sirius' eyes and his own fell downcast to study the patterns in the carpet.

"Harry," Sirius began, trying to coax the boy to look at him. "Can you change me back?"

"Of course he can't, Sirius Black," Molly shook her finger in a scolding manner. "He's only a chi—"

Harry raised his eyes up and he seemed to focus for a millisecond. Briefly, his startling eyes seemed to darken and Sirius suddenly felt an odd tingling sensation danced down his spine. Sirius patted the top of his head to find he was once again normal. "Is my hair black again?" he asked the gaping audience. Remus, who had been somewhat prepared for this all ready, nodded. "You're normal again—well, as normal as you could be, considering the fact that you're you."

Sirius took a mock swipe at his friend. He glanced at Harry to see that his godson was pale and trembling and his eyes darted around as though looking for an escape or a place to hide. Before anyone else could notice, he pulled the boy close to him and hugged him tight, letting Harry tremble as the adrenaline rushed through his body.

Sirius knew that what Harry had just done would've been equivalent to murder in the Dursley house hold and having been conditioned as such, Harry seemed to be suffering a mild panic attack for what he had performed.

"You were brilliant, Harry," Sirius spoke softly into the boy's hair. He felt Harry's arms snake to hug Sirius' middle. Sirius could feel the pounding of Harry's racing heart through his tee-shirt and Sirius was reminded of that horrid night on Hallow's Eve when he had frantically dug through the rubble of Godric's Hollow, praying, sobbing, begging God above that at least little, baby Harry had made it out alive.

The baby had been overseen by providence, it seemed, for the overturned baby bed had provided shelter from the collapsing roof and as Sirius crawled over the broken boards, avoiding looking at Lily's sprawled, lifeless body, he couldn't remember breathing as he reached out to the still body of baby Harry, his hands shaking, his eyes filling with horrified tears to see the blood snaking down from between the tiny creature's eyes. He was so sure that Voldemort had crushed the life from this child who had barely begun to live.

But the baby was breathing, the baby was alive and its tiny chest heaved laboriously and its tiny heart fluttered madly against Sirius' hand. His godfather's touch must have broken the baby boy from his shock for his body, as little as it was, gave a mighty shudder and a heart-piercing cry broke the night's silence. Sirius had gathered the child in his arms, protecting him from the elements and from the world, weeping for what he had lost and weeping for what had been spared.

"You're safe, Prongslet," he whispered. "No one will ever hurt you again."

But Sirius had lied for the moment he had let Hagrid pull the baby out of his arms, Sirius had set himself up for failure as he went to seek revenge from the one who had brought his whole world crashing down at his feet. If he would've fought for baby Harry, it would've prevented so many bad things and Sirius now realized the extent of his errors in glaring hindsight. He realized that Harry would never fully recover from the abuse he had suffered from his relatives. Whoever really does? In the moments Harry least expects it, it would hit him and he would flinch or cower with pure reaction just as Sirius had found himself guilty of when James had reach to pat him on the shoulder or hand him a book. It's been a long time since Sirius had an outward reaction, but the reaction is there internally, and Sirius fights it every time.

_I've failed the one thing you asked me to do James_. He thought and he waited but he heard no answering disagreement. But there was only silence and the feel of Remus' hand falling gently on his shoulder in comfort.

Sirius flinched.

Dinner was a rather boisterous affair complete with arguing, a tug-of-war between the twins for food and finally Molly Weasley shrieking for some sort of order and threatening to tan some backsides with her spoon. Harry seemed somewhat unaffected by it all. He lethargically picked at his food, eye lids drooping. Slowly he had lowered his fork, his shoulders slumping forward and Sirius pulled the boy's chair close to his, so Harry could sag against him instead drowning in his stew.

Sirius was somewhat stunned at how easy Harry had melded into both his and Remus' lives. He had expected so much resistance on Harry's part but, though there was still some, Harry had been desperate for a loving touch—like any other child would be in this sort of situation and both Remus and Sirius were willing to give whatever Harry wished. Dumbledore was working on the technical side, working with the Ministry and the paperwork was going smooth for Harry's adoption. Sirius couldn't help but smile and feel somewhat smug. _Take that Fudge!_

"It really scares me when you look like that, Sirius," Remus said from across the table, his eyes questioning.

Sirius waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and Remus gave a hard look before turning to thank Molly for the wonderful meal and for accepting them into her house.

"Please, take the left over stew with you," Molly insisted, eyeing Harry's uneaten plate.

"Thanks," Sirius said, inwardly cheering for both he and Remus could never had concocted such a satisfying meal. "I'm sure Harry will be on top game soon and we'll be back so he can play Quidditch. But thanks for inviting us anyways."

"Harry's welcome in our home any time. All three of you are," Arthur injected, if you ever need someone to look after him, we'd be more than willing."

"We might just take you up on that, Arthur." With the pleasantries out of the way, Remus rose and shook hands with the man, dutifully received a hug from Molly and gestured for Sirius to do the same. With one hand steadying Harry, he copied Remus and nearly lost his breath when Molly squeezed him hard enough he was sure he heard his ribcage creak.

She was more gentle with Harry and she kissed both his cheeks. Sirius was sure the kid was so out of it, he didn't even register the gesture. With final goodbyes, the threesome reached for their portkey and both Remus and Sirius held tight to their sleepy charge as the world erupted into a swirl of colors and shapes.

***_Harry_

Harry let out a very deep sigh and slowly drew his knees to his chest. He lay curled up on his side, his hands beneath his cheek, watching the sun peek its golden head over the purple mountains outlining the horizon and tentatively stretch its warm rays over a distant lake that glistened like a million diamonds in the dawn's light. Beyond the lake, an ancient-looking willow stood like a somber sage above the other trees of the bordering forest and the yellow-gold beams hugged its drooping branches; they seemed to be shivering in the morning breeze. The sun's rays stretched and reached until it burst against Harry's bedroom window and shattered into patterns of yellow-white light across Harry's sheets, warming his body from toes to nose.

Harry inwardly decided that it was nice and soothing to look at and he enjoyed these precious moments of calm. Next to him, his unnamed Pigmy-Puff waddled into a patch of light near Harry's elbow then settled into a tiny ball of fluff, its nose quivering.

"You like that, don't you?" Harry whispered to his pet, gently stroking it with one finger. The puff vibrated in silent sort of purr. "If only I could think of a name for you, you blasted thing." He narrowed his eyes. "That's weird, your fur looks darker today…" then he shrugged and decided it was just another weird magical thing that happened in the every day of the wizarding world.

Big green eyes met his emeralds in a look that showed that the puff wasn't registering anything Harry was saying. The gray-pink nose quivered for a few moments before its eyes closed. It snuggled against Harry, its body gently rumbling in content. Harry continued to the stroke the velvet like fur, his thoughts wandering on earlier events.

His body was still aching from the horrible seizure he had endured. The potion he had received must of helped hold back the usual achiness that accompanied the aftermath of an episode because when Sirius had been rough housing with him, he hadn't felt anything—almost to the point of numbness. It was a good numbness. But a half hour later, soreness had settled so deep into his muscles he couldn't even sit up by himself. His godfather had gotten a horribly guilty look on his face and Harry felt bad about not warning him of how he usually felt after this sort of thing happened. The nurse lady had given him something that made him fall asleep almost immediately and when he had woke next Remus and Sirius had given him another potion and had asked him if he felt up to visiting the Weasley's for dinner.

Harry furrowed his brow, feeling a tad uncomfortable with the emptiness of the large bedroom that had been deemed his and he pulled his pet closer to his body, suddenly missing the large dog his godfather could transform into. He had always like animals, had always found a certain connection with them. He did his best to help out the strays of the neighborhood and the injured wild animals that he would find every so often. When Sirius was a dog, Harry felt closer to it then when the man was, well, a man. The Pigmy Puff snuggled against him with a continuous purr of satisfaction; it continued to sleep in its own little world of content. The sound the creature made was somewhat soothing and Harry found himself following soon after to the land of dreams that danced around like colorful butterflies in his mind and didn't make any sense but were still pleasant all the same.

When Harry next opened his eyes, he had the feeling that many hours had passed. The sunlight was no longer encasing him in warmth and shadows had begun to grow along the carpet floor. A hand was rubbing his back, easing him back into the world of reality. His heart was pounding in a race of fear and sweat made his shirt stick to his skin. He stared into the growing darkness for several minutes, trembling from the aftermath of the nightmare.

"Sirius?" he whispered into the falling dusk. "Remus?"

"I'm here, Harry," Remus' voice whispered and Harry turned his head over to see Remus leaning over him, his brow furrowed. "Oh Harry, you're shaking. Are you all right? Did I startle you?"

Harry shook his head, continuing to lie on his stomach, letting Remus' hand soothe him as he struggled to calm his heart. He wanted to tell Remus he was grateful, for it was the man's touch that had pulled him away from the horrors of the dream but he found that his words were stuck in his throat.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

He gave his guardian a nod.

"Do you want to tell me what it was about?"

Silence. It stretched for several long minutes until Harry whispered: "My uncle."

"What about your uncle? Was he…was he hurting you?"

Harry violently shook his head, his body shuddering suddenly from fear. He thought he heard Remus sigh but wasn't sure. The man continued to rub his back, making the tension ooze from his muscles. When Harry found his voice again, he asked in a whisper so soft that Remus had to lean close to hear him. "Will you stay with me?"

"Yes," Remus answered right away. "Are you still tired or would you like something to eat? You haven't eaten since last night."

"I'm scared." Harry whispered, his voice breaking on the word scared.

Pause. "Why are you scared?" Remus asked gently, settling himself on the edge of Harry's bed, his hand pausing on Harry's back.

"I just am."

Silence. Then: "You're never going back, Harry. I promise you that. Vernon Dursley will never lay a finger on you again."

"Promise?"

"I promise most sincerely."

Another bout of quiet and Remus began to rub his back again with a gentle hand. Then he spoke, "Harry…I need to know…did Dursley…did he ever touch you in a way…in a way that was inappropriate?"

"That's gross Remus." Came Harry's only disgusted reply.

Remus let out a silent sigh of relief, thanking the Heaven's above that he didn't have to go to that level. "I had to ask though. As long as you're sure…"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry asked so bluntly that Remus was forced to remember Lily being the same way. She was never was one to beat around the bush. He smiled at the memory.

"Where's Pipp?" Harry asked suddenly, raising his head off his pillow.

"Who?" Remus asked confused.

"My Pygmy Puff. I named him Pipp…you know like from Lord of the Rings? Pippin?"

"Ah. Clever, Harry."

"Yes, but where is he?" he asked impatiently.

Remus spotted the creature by the end of the bed, its bright green eyes staring at Remus who crinkled his brow. "Wasn't your pet purple before, Harry?" he reached for the creature and picked it up, bringing it close so he could examine it.

"Yeah, why?"

"It's black now."

"Hmm, is it?" Harry didn't seem very concerned. "He was looking darker early. Maybe it's just a thing that Puffs do."

"I suppose." Remus agreed, releasing the creature and it waddled to snuggle next to Harry's ribs.

Remus smiled. "Aren't you afraid you'll squish it?"

"Not really." Harry answered. "He's sorta flexible, I guess that's what you call it."

"What you mean to say, you already rolled over on him." Remus surmised.

"Yeah. Kinda. But it didn't bother him," Harry sounded somewhat embarrassed as he yawned and laid his head back down.

"Did you want something to eat?" Remus asked, rubbing Harry's thin back once more.

Harry shook his head. "I just want to sleep." He said faintly, closing his eyes.

"You still feeling sore from your seizure?"

"Stay with me," Harry implored softly, not answering Remus' question. "Just till I fall asleep."

"I will."

***_Remus_

Remus quietly descended the staircase, making his way back down to the kitchen where Sirius sat waiting with a cup of tea.

As he passed through the common room, he paused, swallowing back nausea as he surveyed the scene which hadn't changed since Harry's seizure. The piano chair was lying on its side across the room and Remus went to retrieve, noting the long scratch in the black enamel. He passed the dried up pool of vomit that they never cleaned up and pointed his wand at the sickness, muttering a cleaning spell. It instantly vanished, leaving behind a no evidence that it was ever there. Setting up the chair, Remus had to swallow back another wave of nausea as he stared at the dried blood that had splattered the ivory keys and had snaked a path down one piano leg. He waved his wand again and the grotesque scene disappeared but Remus was sure the images would forever haunt his memories.

Leaving the common room, Remus entered the kitchen and plopped down in the kitchen chair across from Sirius who was drinking a glass of fire whiskey.

"You all right, Moony? You're looking pale."

Remus nodded and attempted to rearrange his features to something more accepting. Sirius raised an eyebrow then shrugged, taking another swig as Remus sipped as his steaming tea. "Harry's back asleep." He said. "He had a nightmare—I think I woke him from it by accident when I was rubbing his back."

"A nightmare?"

"Yeah, the kid was shaking for a good bit after he woke up. He said it was a dream about Dursley."

Sirius slowly lowered his drink, his face suddenly dark. "What about Dursley?" he growled threateningly.

"He wouldn't say." Remus admitted. "I didn't want to push him—he looked real shaken up about it. I figured when he wants to, he can talk about it. Damn, I wish he wouldn't bottle it up, though. He'll implode if he continues to."

Sirius sighed an aged man sigh and pushed away his drink.

"Did you know that his Puff turned black?"

"Is that so?" Sirius commented disinterestedly. "I suppose they do that, eh?"

"I guess," Remus said, running a finger around the smooth lip of his china cup. "It just seems a bit weird to me."

"Not really."

The two friends sat for a while in a calm quiet. The snowy owl that they had bought for Harry yet had not had the chance to show him sat perched on the open windowsill. Her brown eyes reflecting the moon's light as she studied them.

"About the full moon…" Remus began. "I think I'll just return to my old flat during it—"

Sirius snorted. "Don't be an idiot, Remus. The basement is perfectly comfortable. You'll have your Wolfsbane potion and I'll be there to keep you company."

Remus glared. "What about Harry? What if he needs you during the night?"

Sirius looked at him as though the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'll transform and go to him. I doubt you won't get too lonely."

Remus shook his head in disagreement.

"So…you will get lonely?"

"Sirius, you prat, I don't care if I'm lonely or not. It'll be too dangerous to have Harry in the same household as me while I'm transformed. There's a chance there'll be something wrong with the potion and I won't be able to control my mind. What would we tell Harry the next day when we have to explain to him that he's now a werewolf and his life is going to suck even more—that's if he survives my attack!"

"You're such a drama queen sometimes," Sirius said, he held up his hand to hold back Remus' next onslaught of words. "But, if you're that concerned about it, we will send Harry to stay the night with the Weasley's. I don't want you going back to that flat. It'll be too dangerous if you're by yourself and you're attacked. I haven't read the Prophet for a couple weeks but I'm pretty sure that the whole wizarding world knows that we have The-Boy-Who-Lived under our wing and there will be uprisings of death eaters out for blood."

"Fine," Remus sighed, unable to argue with sense. He glanced at the clock and rose to head to his room. "I'm going to take Harry to the book store tomorrow so he can pick up some reading material while you're at the Ministry. I haven't had a new book to read either for a long while. I think Harry will like it."

As he was walking away, he heard Sirius mutter something that sounded suspiciously like: "nerd" and he smiled realizing that some things will never change and he liked it that way.

Remus drew in a very deep breath, letting the smell of books, parchment, dust, and wood fill every pore of his being. He had missed this place—its warmth and coziness and the way the books seemed to be endless with their knowledge and adventures. He smiled to himself, grazing his fingertips along a row of multicolored spines, his eyes excitedly picking out the interesting titles from the mundane ones. His fingers hesitated…

He pulled out a thick book from the shelf with a black cover. Red, reptilian eyes glared at him from the front, floating over a dark forest and a pile of ruins. _The Oath_, it read. _Hmmm…_he thought, reading the synopsis before decidedly tucking it under his arm.

"That's a good book," a voice behind him caused him to turn with a start, his hand flying instinctively towards his waist where his wand hid.

She was a young woman with short curls the color of dark chocolate. A pair of oval shaped glasses with light blue frames complimented her dark eyes and face full of freckles. She smiled at his blank look.

"That book your holding…" she gestured to his arm. "It's a really good read—I was up all night because I was unable to put it down. Frank Peretti is an _amazing _writer."

"Really?" Remus answered with a surprised blink of his eyes. He glanced down at his book, his face suddenly warming at suddenly being put on the spot. The two strangers stood for several moments in awkward silence. Remus thumbed through the book cursorily, wincing when his thumb accidently caught on the edge of a page; he jerked it up and studied the tiny red line beginning to form. The woman did not seem to notice his minor plight and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear, looking as though she was about to wander away and Remus frantically searched for any kind of small talk that would stop her from doing that. "You're not from around here?" he finally asked, feeling relieved when she looked at him again.

"Did my accent give that away?" she laughed, looking embarrassed. With her obvious embarrassment came a blush as pink as a spring rose that blossomed on both her cheeks. The wide smile that she gave him brought out a dimple in her rosy, left cheek. "I was born and raised in New Zealand with my mother and father but I've lived in the States for the past several years going to college…but then I decided to move here because of a bunch of craziness that was going on and I just _had _to get away—" she stopped suddenly and looked apologetic. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Remus shook his head in one quick motion his eyebrows raised, unknowingly giving himself a look of perpetual surprise and again they stood in silence. She hugged her arms to her chest and smiled at him again. "You're a wizard, right?"

Remus immediately popped to attention, his hand flying for his wand sticking quite conspicuously from his pocket. "Oh Merlin, no—"

The woman laughed. "I attended the Cordove School of Witchcraft and Wizardry over in New Zealand—my parents were not able to afford anything else. But I liked it there—it was nice and simple. After that I went to the States to attend a more advanced school or what muggles would call 'College'. It really helped advance me in areas where I was struggling. What school did you attend?"

"H-Hogwarts—" Remus' voice broke and he cleared his throat hurriedly. "I mean Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry over in Scotland. I'll be teaching there this coming fall."

She immediately looked envious. "Really? I've always wanted to teach there—I do love working with children. I was a pediatric nurse for the Dayton Children's Hospital (it was muggle, of course) and I really enjoyed it but I wanted to pursue something with magic involved. I've applied to St. Mungo's but I don't think they'll accept—their children's ward is filled right now…" she sighed and then her cheeks blushed a vibrant pink. "I'm sorry—I always tend to talk too much and people seemed to get overwhelmed."

"No, not at all," Remus answered then blinked expectedly as he waited for her to continue.

She laughed. "You're not a man of many words, are you?" she held out a small hand. "I'm Addison Knight. You are?"

"Remus," he cleared his throat again. "Remus Lupin."

"Lupin?" she mused. "Like the moon?"

Panic flared in his chest. "Sure," he squeaked in an unmanly way. Addison smiled then glanced over his shoulder at someone.

"Do you know that boy over there because he's been staring you down for the past five minutes?"

Remus immediately spun around to see Harry standing about ten feet away, holding four books in his hands, and looking at him reproachful like. "Merlin, Harry—why didn't you say something?" he motioned the boy to join him which Harry didn't, looking distrustfully at Addison than sending a disgruntled glare in Remus' direction.

"Is this your son?" she asked, looking to Remus as though she was disappointed, watching the waif with an unreadable gaze. "He doesn't look much like you…"

"Oh, no," Remus quickly assured. "He's—_was_—my best friends' son. They were…killed a while ago—me and my friend Sirius are adopting him."

"Killed by Voldemort, you mean?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Remus looked at her in surprise.

"I saw the scar on his forehead and figured he must be Harry Potter."

Remus looked back at his charge who still hadn't budged, "Harry," he said with a motioning gesture, "come here; I'd like you to meet someone."

Harry pressed his lips into a thin line of defiance and one final look of betrayal, he did an about face and retreated deeper into the book store, his back stiff.

Awkward silence.

Remus cleared his throat. "My apologies, Miss Knight, Harry is somewhat shy and doesn't warm very fast towards strangers, though there was no excuse for that bit—"

Addison waved her hand hurriedly, as though trying to rid herself of an annoying gnat, "Oh stop, there's no reason to apologize. I completely understand."

"You do?" Remus asked in confusion.

"Of course. I've worked around so many children and I understand their behaviors more than you could ever guess. That child is just jealous that you've seemed to find a rapport with me. He figures that if he can't have you to himself than he doesn't want to be around you at all." She grinned as though she was only mentioning the weather.

Remus found himself flushing furiously, the redness creeping all the way down his neck.

She continued: "But don't be too alarmed though, he'll out grow it—he's just not used to having anyone care for him and he's just feeling overly attached. He's scared you'll leave him."

Remus stared at this interesting creature that had been deemed Woman. For several moments flecked amber met melted chocolate until Remus found his voice that had skittered away unexpectedly. "You know this…?"

"As I've said, Remus, I've been around many, many children. I can see that Harry's previous lifestyle was…less than desirable." For the first time, the woman looked uncomfortable, sympathy making her eyes somewhat misty.

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I still don't know the full extent—Harry never mentions anything."

Addison gave him a look of disapproval and Remus winced at her suddenly darkened gaze. "How do you expect to help him, then, if you don't even know what he's been through?"

****Harry

Harry hid in the comforting shadows of the towering bookshelves, in the farthest corner of the store where it was cool and unbothered by the few occupants browsing the reading material. He flipped through a book called _The Hobbit_ which Harry had always wanted to read but was never given the chance to do so. The sentences came blurred to him though. He struggled with the knowledge that Remus had abandoned him for some pretty woman. Jealousy and fear ate a hole in his chest and he found it hard to concentrate on the tiny words typed across the pages. He knew it didn't make any sense to feel that way but Harry didn't want to lose the very thing he had been praying for since he could remember. That little bit when Remus had quickly, almost too quickly, told that woman that Harry _wasn't _his son, that he was only looking after him, bothered Harry right down to his core. He _wanted _to be Remus' son and be known as such without any hesitance from the man.

No. He shouldn't raise his hopes so high on men he barely knew. But it _would_ be sorta nice…

He achingly stretched his limbs, still feeling the aftermath of the seizure he had suffered several days before. After the rough housing Sirius had done Harry found himself unable to even lift an arm to feed himself barely an hour later; the pain and weakness evading his muscles too unbearable to let himself move an inch. Sirius had a look of incredible guilt on his young face and Harry had lost count of how many times the man had apologized and was still apologizing.

Suddenly, Harry had the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching him. The back of his neck prickled in fear and he slowly lowered the book had be had scanning, eyes wide and heart pounding. He braced himself as he slowly turned.

It was that tall, looming man that had found him at Hogwarts when he had run from Sirius and Remus. Eyes as black, as pitiless as a moonless night were glaring at him with had to have been utmost loathing.

Harry backed up so fast that he hit his head on the book shelf towering over him. The wooden shelf shuddered, several books toppling from their perches and smacking him on the head and shoulders. For a moment, he saw stars, swaying on the spot before shaking himself free of cobwebs.

The man sneered and took long strides towards Harry, who was trembling and thinking fast, the adrenaline hot and boiling as it rushed his veins.

Feeling like an animal cornered by its prey, his survival instincts kicked in and he whipped out his wand with a quivering hand. Gold and black sparks spouted from the wand tip in a warning.

"Foolish boy," the menacing man snapped, grabbing Harry's thin wrist, forcing Harry to drop his wand. Harry let out a yelp and began to struggle wildly in panic. "What are you doing here alone? Where are your guardians?"

Harry said nothing for fear the man wanted to harm his godfathers. He flailed like a rabbit trapped in a snare, kicking and scratching.

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Potter?" The man spat, giving Harry a violent shake of his shoulders, making his head whip painfully. The gesture was all too similar to Vernon used to do and the memory sparked his instinct to accept defeat. He immediately went limp and the man had to hold him up to keep him falling to the floor. "Potter, what do you mean by this?"

Harry met his black eyes with terrified emeralds, a whimper escaping his throat even though he had fought so hard to hold it back.

Instead of getting angrier, those angry eyes softened a bit and the grip on Harry's shoulders loosened somewhat, but he kept a hold on Harry who had remained as limp as a lifeless body.

"Potter," the man spoke slow, his voice no longer threatening. "I mean you no harm. I was only trying to point out that you shouldn't be alone right now. Do you know where your guardians are?"

Harry nodded, slowly straightening his body so that the man wasn't holding him up anymore. "Remus is over there somewhere, talking to someone." Harry pointed and the man followed his finger and a sneer overcame his severe face.

"You may call me Professor Snape, you insolent whelp, or sir. I will be teaching your potions class at Hogwarts when the time comes. Understood?"

Harry swallowed hard as he took a step back from the impeding man. "Yes sir." Snape looked down at him and studied his face for a moment.

"What were you reading?" the Professor asked and Harry jumped out of his skin at the civilized question.

"The _Hobbit_, sir. A prequel to the Lord of the Rings trilogy."

Snape blinked in surprise. "You understand it?"

"Yes sir."

The man looked mildly impressed and he made a quick motion with his hand and the four books Harry had chosen stacked themselves in a neat pile and gently floated into Harry's waiting hands.

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said quickly lest the man thought he was rude.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the odd waif and a thought suddenly came to him. "Are you able to perform such a thing, Potter? I've heard things about you and your _flawless_ wandless magic."

To Harry, it sounded like the man was mocking him and shrank back somewhat, glaring at the professor. "I could if wanted." He retorted back rather cheekily and Snape sneered nastily.

"Prove yourself then, Potter, if you would so oblige me." The man drawled and suddenly Harry found his books flying from his hands. Reflex made him move fast and the books suddenly froze in mid air, not a single one hitting the floor. Harry drew in a deep breath and the books slowly returned, one on top of the other, arranged in chronological order.

Harry grinned triumphantly but his smile quickly slid off his face when he looked up and saw the man glaring savagely clutching his own arm as though in pain. For a moment Harry thought he had done something but as he went to speak, a violent, forceful pain ripped across his forehead and Harry dropped like a stone to the floor, vomiting on the carpet, the agony blinding him. He clapped a hand to his forehead.

"Potter!" A voice was shouting above his head. "Potter, look at me!"

Harry could only moan as someone wrenched a hand away from his head.

The sound of someone cursing was quickly drowned out by the deafening roar of an explosion that rocked the earth beneath Harry and there was suddenly nothing.

***_Severus_

Severus swore as he pulled the boy's hand away from his forehead, watching as a thin string of blood followed Potter's palm. It wasn't coincidence that Potter had dropped with pain the moment he had felt his mark sear.

He heard the screaming outside and instinctively threw his own body over the child's, clutching Potter's head to his chest as the world around him exploded.

It was utter chaos as the building's roof gave way with a distortion of lights and screaming people. The bubble shield Severus had haphazardly thrown up protected the two from the flying debris and licking flames of fire. But he wasn't able to keep it up for long for the searing of his mark had doubled and the shield flickered as he struggled to maintain it. It's weird how time seemed to slow down and Severus was able to take into account every detail that surrounded him and he was able to engrain it into his memory.

The smell of burning books made him choke and his black shirt was beginning to feel hot and sticky from where the boy's forehead pressed against him. He could feel the child convulsing beneath him and Severus was sure a seizure had been triggered.

The glaring lights streaming through the smoke and the red-orange flames of fire blinded him. He shot a heavy stream of water towards the burning book shelf, dousing the flames that was closest to him and picked himself up off Potter before crouching over the boy.

The child's eyes rolled in their sockets and foam trickled from the corner of his mouth. Blood from his cursed scar ran down his face and curled around his ears until his hair dripped with it. Severus quickly turned the boy on his side as Potter heaved up vomit but he kept a firm hand on the boy's arm as he continued to jerk and twitch uncontrollably.

Severus surveyed his surroundings, knowing that anti-apparition wards had probably be set up around the premises. As he prayed that Potter's seizure wouldn't last, he looked for way to hide the two of them. He didn't care about the werewolf and what had happened to that half breed. Potter was his primary concern—his only concern and he had to get the boy to safety.

Severus wasn't expecting the second explosion.

***_Remus_

Remus achingly rolled onto his side, groaning and retching violently. Pain tore through ribs and he felt something hot and wet soaking his shirt but he didn't want to look.

_Harry. Harry. Harry._ He inwardly chanted, mentally struggling with consciousness, fighting to draw each breath in.

"Remus!" Addison was bent over him, her hands on his chest, his neck, his face. As she leaned, her shirt hung from her neck, giving Remus a clear view of her breast and lacy bra. She pressed her lips to his.

_Now's not the time! I need to find Harry!_ He tried to admonish her but couldn't find the words or the breath to say it out loud.

"Breathe, Remus!" She cried, her voice suddenly coming into sharp focus. "Come on, dammit! BREATHE!" She punched his chest.

Remus gasped, his lungs suddenly inflating with smoky air but air nonetheless. He threw up again, only bile this time and his eyes watered as his ribs screamed in agony.

He winced, watching Addison as she frantically worked above him, rubbing his back to keep his lungs clear. She had taken off the pretty blue shirt she had been wearing so she only wore a camisole. She had pressed her shirt to his side and her lips were moving but he couldn't understand what she was saying.

"H-Harry…" he managed to croak weakly. "Find…Harry…"

And he fought for his next breath but found he quickly lost.

***_Sirius_

Sirius ran, his long legs carrying him faster than they ever had before. He left Dumbledore and Shacklebolt behind to fight the onslaught of death eaters. It was as if by magic that every spell sent his way missed though he did not turn to retaliate. His heart burned within his chest and his breaths were searing gasps but he wouldn't stop until he found them.

"Where are you going, Sirius?" Tonks cried to him as he passed, sending a stunning spell over her shoulder.

"To find Harry and Remus!" He roared back. He knew where he needed to go.

His heart stopped beating when he saw that the book store was up in flames and that the roof had partially collapsed. Sirius wasn't a god-believing man but suddenly he could've been a chaplain by the way he prayed to god above that his little family had survived. He passed a woman crumpled on the sidewalk, sobbing and blubbering but he didn't stop to help.

He plowed through the burning mess, ignoring the burns and scrapes he received for being so careless. His life didn't matter anymore. Harry and Remus depended on him. He depended on them. Without them, there wouldn't be a point to existing, there would be no reason for him to rise each morning and face a new day.

He stumbled and nearly fell as he avoided stepping on a limb sticking out from beneath a leaning book case. For a moment he thought it was Harry's dismembered arm but when he fell on all fours, he found it was only a toddler, lying motionless.

"Please be okay baby," he whispered, gathering the child in his arms. Its tiny chest was heaving and tears streaked its ash covered face. "I've got you baby, you're gonna be okay."

He ran out of the building and found that providence was looking down at him the hysterical woman he had passed suddenly cried out at him, her face and arms and clothes streaked with ash and a blood stain was growing on her shoulder.

"That's my baby!" she screamed, flinging herself towards him. She took the child from his arms, sobbing and gasping. "Thank you! Thank you!" she cried. "Evelyn? Evelyn, be okay baby!"

"She's alive," Sirius told her hurriedly, "You need to get out of here! Try to find a fire place and go to St. Mungo's!"

The woman nodded then ran like a gazelle. Sirius didn't watch to see if she made it alive for he raced back into the fire, shooting jets of water randomly, hoping to stem back the flames. In his mind images of Harry and Remus with twisted, charred bodies buried under burning books and rubble burned into his memory. The images rattled him so violently that he had to pause so he could heave sickness on the floor. As he stood, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and sent out another jet of water.

"HARRY! REMUS! WHERE ARE YOU? CAN YOU HEAR ME!" Sirius screamed into the smoke filled air, dodging fallen book shelves and ducking as roof tiles rained from above. He fell when a shower of flying sparks spit up when he kicked a piece of fallen wood. He rubbed at his stinging face and stumbled to his feet again, his wand spraying water fruitlessly. "MOONY? HARRY? ANSWER ME! GODDAMMIT, ANWSER ME!"

"I HEAR YOU!" a screaming voice made his heart leap. "WE'RE OVER HERE!"

Sirius followed the voice and found a young woman crouched over a body; she frantically called him over.

The body, Sirius realized with a hammering heart, was Remus. The young man was curled up on his side, lying in pools of vomit and blood. He fell to his knees and nearly wept with he saw the grotesque gash ripping into his friend's side, allowing the life to bleed from the werewolf.

"Remus!" the animagus yelled. The man didn't answer. He turned to the woman and found that she was relatively unharmed. She watched him with wide eyes, her chest heaving and her hands clenched into fists.

"I can't carry him out, but he'll die if we don't get him help soon." she sobbed. "I've lost my wand in the fire. Please help us!"

"Where's Harry? Did he get out? Is he safe?"

The woman looked at him with wild eyes. She screamed when a piece of lumber fell near her. Sirius grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. "Where's Harry!" he bellowed, panic making him tremble and sweat.

"I don't know! We weren't together when it happened! I screamed for him but he never answered!" she bawled, barely holding herself together. Sirius fell back on his haunches, eyes wide and fixated. There was no way his godson was going to survive alone. He looked down at his dying friend then back into the growing fire. He was torn.

"The building's going to collapse!" The woman cried. "We have to get out of here now!"

"But Harry!" Sirius hollered. "But Harry's somewhere in there!"

The woman tugged on his shirt and flinched when more ceiling came down. "You can't help him now! If you leave, then we'll all die! He might've made it out all ready! PLEASE!"

Sirius, gasping and shaking now, hefted Remus over his shoulder and grabbed the woman by the hand, dragging her the way he had come. Each step he took, it felt as though his inside ripped a little more and he was sure that by the time he made it out onto the street, he would be nothing but shredded pieces.

On the street, Sirius let Remus slide from his arms, taking care to not let his friend crack his head on the cobblestone.

"I'm going back in." Sirius declared to the woman, clenching his wand as he stood to run back in.

"You can't!" The woman screamed at him. "You'll never make it!"

"MY GODSON IS IN THERE!" Sirius roared.

_BOOM! _The building imploded from the inside and collapsed in on itself. Flames and sparks flew and Sirius threw himself over the woman and Remus, feeling the ground beneath him shudder and groan its protest. Black smoke filled the air.

When things had settled and the smoke had begun to raise, Sirius shakily stood to his feet, his face white, his heart empty. Upon seeing the pile of rubble, he collapsed like a man run through with a sword for the pain was too great, too unreal. Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs shook his entire body; he banged his fist once, twice against the cobblestone, the injustice of it all making him howl in pain.

And behind him, a dark, silent pool of blood continued to spread as Remus' breaths grew fewer and fewer.

***_Hermione_

Hermione Granger was so frightened, so shocked that she found she couldn't cry, though she really, really wanted to. She tucked herself deeper under the table, pressing herself against the wall. It was getting harder and harder to breathe and she wondered if she would suffocate to death before she got burned. She didn't know which would be worse.

"Mummy!" her voice was a soft cry. "Daddy!" she knew they were not close to the store but in the ice cream shop down the street where she had promised to meet them at the top of the hour. She realized that was probably the last time she'll ever see them. Why didn't she hug them or kiss their cheeks? Why didn't she just go for ice cream instead of indulging her love for books? Hogwarts had a vast library and she spent the majority of her year in it.

That Weasley boy had been right after all. She really _did _need to sort out her priorities. Were books really more important than her parents?

The loud boom that suddenly rent the air made her scream and she threw her arms over her head, cowering and praying that if she were to die today, that it would be a fast and non-painful death. Roof, books, and pieces of the wall fell around her but the stone table she had sought refuge beneath protected her valiantly and she only got several small cuts out of the ordeal. Blood ran down her face and bare legs for she was wearing a dress but otherwise, she was unharmed.

Perhaps it had been lucky that her quill had rolled under this table and the attack had happened the precise moment she had crawled beneath it to retrieve the writing utensil.

When the earth had decided to settle, Hermione slowly, gingerly raised her head then screamed when she found a pair of emerald eyes staring back at her.

"Harry potter!" she finally recognized. The boy blinked in surprise and she noted the blood running from his forehead and nostrils. She studied him and realized with a gasp that a blue-tinged bubble was keeping the smoke and debris away from their area. Harry was trembling. "Are you doing that?" she asked, astonished.

Both children jerked as a large piece of ceiling fell. Hermione watched in horror as the burning wood plummeted towards The-Boy-Who-Was-About-To-Be-Crushed but it bounced harmlessly of the shield and scattered in pieces across the smoldering floor. She stared at this boy wonder.

Harry didn't look much better than she did, though. His lips were trembling and he was shaking so bad that he was holding his head at an odd angle. She could tell that he wouldn't be able to hold that shield up much longer. "Get under the table with me, Harry. Quickly before you faint. It's safe under here, stone doesn't burn."

But Harry shook his head and looked pointedly next to him. Hermione rose up on her knees to follow his line of sight and gasped when she saw Professor Snape lying unconscious. "Holy Crickets!" She cried, her hands dancing frantically. "We're all doomed!"

Harry watched her with wide eyes.

"No, you mustn't Hermione Granger," she corrected herself, reigning in her terror. "You need to think about this logically and find the simple solution of survival."

"Shut-up, Granger before I fail you in potions."

Hermione leapt a foot in the air when she saw Snape sitting up unsteadily, blood matting his hair though he still had the gall to glare. Hermione suddenly found herself bursting into tears. Finally, there was an adult here to make the decisions and though it was her dreaded potions professor, she knew that the sour man would do anything to ensure that both children made it out safe.

That's when Harry decided to faint, his skull smacking the floor loudly as he lost unconsciousness. And as he fainted, the shield he had been holding fell away and flames, smoke, sparks, and burning rubble suddenly flooded in.

Hermione screamed in terror. Snape quickly assessed the situation and gathered the boy up with one arm and drug the small girl out from under the table with his under. He tucked both children in his cloak, clutching them to his body as he did his best to protect them from the raging flames and smoke.

Hermione clutched her Professor's shirt, sobbing into his midsection which would have been entirely indecent had it been another time and a different situation. She felt the man's arm tighten protectively around her and she clung to him like a lifeline.

"Hold on tight, Miss Granger," Snape shouted to her above the roar of fire. "I am going to attempt to apparate. The apparition wards have fallen—I can feel it. Hang on tight now."

Hermione did just that as the universe around erupted into a swirl of flame, heat, color and shape. The sensation of being sucked into a tube overwhelmed her and she panicked when she found that she couldn't breathe.

But it was only a moment and she suddenly found herself collapsing into cool grass where she laid on her stomach, gasping and choking and sobbing all at once. A hand was rubbing her back soothingly, attempting to calm her.

"Everything is all right now, Miss Granger. There is no need to blow things out of proportion." Her professor's voice reprimanded her from above.

But Hermione knew he was only saying that and she grasped at the soft grass and buried her face into it, heaving with sobs.

Beside her, Harry lay on his side, watching her with half-lucid jewels. He was trembling and his face was white beneath the streaks of soot. He occasionally twitched and through her sobs, Hermione wondered if he was going to be all right and she felt the need to hug him for protecting her and the Professor.

As Hermione began to calm, the cool air of the falling night made her shiver madly and she suddenly found herself swept into the Professor's arms where he sat and he wrapped his cloak around her, cradling her in his lap as she sniffled and shuddered. She would've been embarrassed and somewhat mortified if this had been any other time but she needed this desperately or she feared that she would fall to pieces.

Sometime later, Hermione lifted her head to see Snape staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched and his face in a scowl.

"Where are we?" Hermione squeaked.

"I do not know," Snape answered, looking down at her. "But if you think you can hold yourself together, I will set up a camp and tend to Mr. Potter. We'll find home in the morning. I am rather drained at the moment."

Hermione didn't entirely understand but she nodded anyway and went to huddle with Harry who was either asleep or unconscious. Snape had wrapped him in a conjured blanket so he looked somewhat like a burrito.

Her parents must be sick with worry by now, she thought. She wondered about Harry's guardians and if they were okay as well.

"What is wrong with Harry?" she asked when Snape crouched to check the boy's pulse and feel his forehead.

"Mr. Potter exuded a tremendous amount of magical energy in that book shop while he held up that shield to protect you and I. He has exhausted himself with it and I fear he will not wake for a while. He also experienced a mild epileptic attack during the first explosion."

Hermione gasped. "He has seizures?"

Snape nodded absentmindedly.

"Professor?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened at the book shop…was that an accident?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"No, Miss Granger. That was a death eater attack. I believe they were attempting to find Mr. Potter."

"How horrid." Hermione whispered, patting Harry on the back because she felt the need to comfort him. She would want to be comforted if death eaters had tried to kidnap her.

Several minutes later, as Hermione curled up next to Harry's prone form in the make-shift tent that Snape had concocted, she let a few silent tears drip from her eyes. Snape laid with his back to her and she knew he was worried about her complaining about the inappropriateness of it all when they arrived back home but she appreciated the warmth of both bodies and she closed her eyes.

Behind her eyelids, her dreams danced with flames and burning buildings and fully robbed men with terrifying masks marching around, setting everything in their path on fire. She woke with a jerk when they had pointed a fiery wand at her and she check her skin in the dark to make she hadn't charred to a crisp and she listened with a pounding heart to see if she could hear marching or the sound of screams that she had heard back in the burning shop.

"Go back to sleep, Granger," Snape's voice made her jump. "You are safe with me. In the morning you will see you parents."

"Yes, Professor." She whispered.

She didn't sleep the rest of the night.


	8. Forgiveness and Dark Lords

_No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. -C.S. Lewis_

_Anger is the fluid love bleeds when it is cut._

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, pulling him back to reality, from a place of anguish, misery and swirling pain that engulfed each breath he took, each thought that smeared across his mind, each image that branded itself against the back of his eyelids. He fisted a handful of gravel, relishing the pain that anchored him down and he opened his eyes to see red robes, decorated with swirling stars and moons—the robes of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

"Sirius." The elderly man spoke in a comforting voice and Sirius savagely swiped at the wetness on his cheeks; he hated for others to see his weakness. "Stand up." The wizard said gently and Sirius took his withered hand to stand on unsteady feet.

Out of the corner of his eye his saw his friend's blood staining the cobblestone street. Two Auror first responders were working over Remus skillfully, doing their to keep the werewolf breathing. Sirius couldn't look directly at them.

"This was not Remus' fault," Albus said softly and Sirius twisted childishly away from the headmaster.

Deep, deep down Sirius realized this but too deep for Sirius to take it into account. The pain of loss was at glaring forefront and blinded Sirius to everything else. He stared at the rubble, watching the small, dying flames lick at whatever was left, devastating everything they touched. The black smoke continued to linger and the air felt thick and smothering.

"Sirius, you don't know for sure if Harry had been in there. He might be somewhere else…"

"He was in there, Albus!" Sirius snarled, cutting his former headmaster off rudely. "Harry's not the type to just run off to go party it up!"

"Sirius, I was merely suggesting—"

"Just shut it Dumbledore, just shut it! You don't care about Harry! You're the one who left him at the Dursley's in the first place. You just care about your damn prophecy!"

Albus Dumbledore sighed wearily, "And what about you Sirius? Are you frightened of the prospect of being left alone again, or are you sincerely concerned about the welfare of young Harry?"

Sirius whirled on the wizard, his vision developing a red haze around the edges. "What kind of shit- question is that? What are trying to imply?" Sirius curbed the urged to hex Dumbledore and settled on giving him a vicious glare. "Of course I care about Harry! Of course I care about being left alone again!"

The blue eyes studying him made Sirius feel unnerved. He turned away from their piecing stare and watched as the first responders worked over the werewolf and he watched one of Remus' pale hands twitch as it lay limp on the stone of the street.

He hated him. He hated Remus for taking Harry with him to the book shop. He hated Remus for letting Harry wonder off alone. He hated Remus for being hurt and he hated the blood that slithered between the cobblestones like a silent snake stealing away the life of his friend.

He hoped Remus would die. He hoped he would follow after.

_******Remus _

Remus found that it hurt very much to breathe. He panted shallowly, gingerly touching his bandaged ribs and wincing when the pain flared. When he opened his eyes, at first everything came to him as a blur that pulsed and gyrated in time with the throbbing of his head. He blinked once, twice, three times before his vision started to clear. He tried to remember what had happened but he could only remember pain and fire.

When the werewolf turned the first thing he saw was Sirius' dark glare and it startled him so badly that he jerked and that bodily motion sent horrible pain searing through his chest.

"Remus," the animagus spoke in a voice filled with anger and hate, devoid of any sort of concern or pity.

Remus blinked rapidly, struggling for breath, trying to reason as to why Sirius was staring at him in such a manner. Had he done something extremely stupid to get him in such a position? He opened his mouth to speak but found that he couldn't take in enough oxygen to do so.

"Tell me, Remus," Sirius's voice quivered with suppressed emotions and his blue eyes were icily accusatory. "Why did you _not _stay with Harry in that book shop? Was a woman more important to you than your godson?"

That's when everything came flying back to him in sharp, vivid clarity. He remembered the roof falling on him, he remember the wood spearing his side and Addison crying above him as she attempted to keep him alive. The burning, the fire, and the absence of Harry. He remembered the boy being upset that Remus had been speaking with the woman; he remembered not following after Harry when his charge had turned away. The explosion, the screams…

"Is…" Remus' voice came hoarse and pained. "Is…H-Harry…is…he…safe…?"

Remus flinched when Sirius banged his fist on the bed side table. "What do you _think_, Remus!" Sirius shouted violently. Remus felt his breathing quicken and the pain from it made his vision blur. "What do you think happened? He was just a child and you were supposed to watch over him! I trusted you!"

"N-no…" Remus whispered, fear and horror flooding every synapse of his being. His heart was thudding so loud that he was sure the rest of the world could hear it. He fumbled for something to grab onto, to keep himself mentally anchored, to pull himself back from the crashing waves of anguish that threatened to pull him under and drown him.

"_I trusted you_!" Sirius banged his fist again and Remus jerked in fear; he trembled, waiting for Sirius to administer the first blow, knowing that he deserved it. "It's _your_ fault! It's all _your_ fault! They haven't found his body yet—it's probably all burned up by now! You were supposed to watch him…you were supposed to make sure he didn't get hurt. I told you—_I told you_ there would be fucking death eaters! Now he's dead—he's dead and it _all your fault_, Remus! None of this would've happened if you'd listened to me in the first place!" Sirius threw a vial of one Remus' potions against the wall. The glass shattered and the crimson liquid sprayed the stones and dripped on the floor. It looked like blood.

Remus couldn't breathe, couldn't draw a breath in. Inside of Remus ached. He never knew that a pain so great existed. He felt like he was choking on grief…suffocating as Sirius spewed out his anger and hurt at him.

"_I hate you!_" Sirius yelled loudly and Remus coughed wetly as his body began to heave with broken sobs. The words that Sirius had drowned him with made something deep within him sear with an agony so great that it took the breath right out of him. Was it his soul? He wasn't aware werewolves had one. He inwardly begged that something would come to end his miserable existence and he wondered if this was worse than a thousand curses thrown at him. Sirius threw another vial and that one broke against the wall. The clear liquid ran with the bloody red and turned it pale pink. "_I bloody fucking hate you! _I wish it was _you_…" Sirius scrubbed fiercely at his face. "I wish-I wish it had been _you_ _that died instead of James that night. I _wish you—it was you—_I wish you had burned instead of Harry!_"

"Sirius Black!" Madame Pomphrey was standing there, looking horrified at what she had just heard.

Sirius froze, not knowing he had an audience, his face still white was rage and pain.

Ice blue met pained green-amber and the anger that Sirius had been clutching so tightly dissolved like ashes. Horror over what he'd just said registered and he breathed in a great gasp. Remus saw the changed demeanor and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the onslaught of apologies and pleas for forgiveness, wishing he had the strength to raise his hands and cover his ears, his face; he wanted to hide, to shut the world away so he wouldn't feel anymore.

"Oh gods…oh Merlin…Moony, I didn't mean that, I didn't mean to say that—please believe me—it was just—just—"

Through blurred vision and wheezing sobs, Remus opened his eyes to mere slits and was able to glare at his friend, showing him that he didn't believe him.

"Get out, Black. Get out right now and don't show your blasted face in here again until you develop a sense of decency. OUT!" the medi witch shrieked.

"But—but I—"

"OUT!"

Sirius spun then froze, his heart forgetting to beat, his lungs forgetting to inflate. His gaze locked with a wide pair of eyes so brilliantly green, so jewel like, that they could only belong to one person.

"H-Harry?"

_****Harry __**(Three days later)**_

__Harry stared at his guardians, unsure of what to say or do. He worried his bottom lip until Remus' husky, weak voice implored him: "Don't do that Harry."

Harry instantly obeyed and he quickly licked away the blood where he'd nicked his own lip. Sirius was doing his best to be as gentle as possible as he helped Remus slowly; achingly lower himself onto the bed that had been set up for him on the lowest level of the Potter Mansion so the injured man wouldn't have to worry about the staircase.

A flash of pain crossed Remus' young face and he let out a small hiss.

"Sorry," Sirius said quickly. Remus shrugged off the animagus and used the headboard to brace himself as he lowered himself onto his good side against the propped up pillows. "Would you like me to get you anything?" Sirius asked when Remus was done.

"No."

"Do you need a pain potion?"

"No."

"Are you sure? A glass of water perhaps?"

"No."

"What about some toast—it's not good to have an empty stomach when your body is trying to heal."

Silence. Harry looked at Remus, whose eyes were closed tightly and he was panting in shallow breaths, to Sirius who was clenching and unclenching his fists, obviously at a loss of what to do. The tension in the air was thick and it made Harry's heart pound.

With a sigh, Sirius turned away, looking like a hurt puppy with its tail between its legs and he left the room, brushing past Harry without looking at him. Harry felt frozen, torn between the two men, he watched Sirius disappear down the hall, obviously on his way to the kitchen to drown his sorrows with a glass of fire whiskey. When he looked back at Remus, he found that the man was watching him with pained eyes that were more gold than any other color. This frightened Harry.

"Come here, pup," Remus whispered hoarsely. It was the first time Harry had been close to Remus for several days and he hesitated, unsure if he should obey or flee. "Harry, don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

Fighting back tears from the turmoil and the animosity of the situation Harry shuffled over the bed and gingerly sat down on the very edge, blinking fast.

"Harry," Remus coughed when he said this and Harry hated the pain in his guardian's voice. "Look-look at me."

Harry didn't, keeping his eyes locked on the carpet, counting the loose threads sticking out.

A sudden hand cupped his chin, turning Harry's head and his emeralds met golden amber. Remus studied him for a moment and Harry was sure that he saw the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Don't you worry about us adults, Harry," Remus' voice was weak but fierce and it surprised Harry. He pulled away from the man's touch. A traitor tear escaped his eye and sprinted down his cheek and clung to the edge of his jaw. Remus thumbed it away. "I mean it, Harry—don't get caught up in this. Things will work out in the end. They usually do."

Harry thought that was a lie but decided not to say so. He looked at Remus with equal intensity, trying to read the depth of the man's eyes. "You're very angry." He stated. It wasn't a question.

Remus hesitated. "Yes…yes, Harry I am."

"He hurt you really bad, didn't he?" That came out more like a statement as well and not a question.

Remus broke eye contact and he grimaced. After several moments, he gently took Harry by the arm and pulled him close. Harry laid his cheek carefully against Remus' chest and began to cry silent tears, out of view from the man's seeking eyes. He felt Remus' hand on the back of his head and his voice came as a broken whisper: "Forgive me, Harry. Please forgive me."

Harry muffled a sob with his fist, biting down into his own flesh to stifle the sound. Remus heard it anyway and he pulled the child closer, despite the pain that split down his side. "I never meant for any of that to happen. I should've been more attentive. If Severus hadn't been there…Sirius was right…"

"Stop it!" Harry demanded, pulling away from his guardian, feeling suddenly furious. "None of this could've been prevented so there's no point in apologizing. Sirius was wrong when he said all that stuff to you but he didn't mean it! He was just hurt and sad. He's the one who should apologize. You guys need to quit fighting like a bunch of kids so we all can move on. I don't like having to stand between you guys like I'm some sort of buffer! I just want things to be the way they before that stupid book store! Please, just-just stop it!"

Harry struggled to catch his breath. He couldn't the remember talking so much in one breath and he instantly feared he would be punished for being cheeky and he cringed, waiting expectedly. But Remus never struck out and when Harry looked up, he was met with Remus' red-eyed gaze. The man's jaw was trembling. He looked ashamed and Harry immediately felt guilty.

"I-I don't know Harry…" he murmured. "What he said—I just can't—he said he wished I was _dead_."

Harry jumped off the bed, his hands balled into fists. "My Aunt and Uncle told me every day that they wished I were dead! Or that they hoped that I would be hit by a car on the way to school or that I would be kidnapped by a psycho path. Once, when there was a shooting at this college, they told me that if there was ever a shooting at my school, I might as well let the guy shoot me because I don't have a point in existing anyways." Harry couldn't believe he was telling Remus this and he swiped angrily at his stupid tears. "And sometimes…sometimes I _wished_ that what they said would really happen so that I didn't have to go back home and…and face…face—t-try living with that every day!"

With that, Harry fled from the room, magically slamming Remus' bedroom as he exited. He didn't notice the long, narrow crack that appeared above him as he ran away.

When he got to the sanctuary his room, he pushed out the angry bottle of magic he had been suppressing and it exploded from him and everything in its path was spared no mercy. When it had finished its course his bed had over turned and the glass had shattered from his window. The light bulb had burst and the carpet bore scorch marks. Several gashes adorned the plaster of the walls and pieces of it scattered across the carpet.

"Hell," Harry breathed when he registered what he had done. "Pipp." He began a frantic search of his puff, fear curdling in his stomach as he realized that he might've killed his pet with his outburst of the cursed magic. Relief filled him, though, when he found the Puff hiding beneath the splintered desk. When he pulled it into the light, he nearly dropped it in shock. Instead of purple, the Puff was a deep, swirling, angry red-black color. To Harry, it looked just like blood and that disconcerted him and he impulsively tossed the Puff on the overturned mattress to get the freak of a creature away from him and turned, letting out a yell of fear before he realized that it was only Sirius standing in his doorway, looking quite frazzled.

"Dear god, Harry what the hell happened? You've scared at least fifteen years out of me and Remus is downstairs have an apoplexy!"

Harry was breathing heavy and his heart beat frantically in its rush to catch up with his wild emotions. "I lost control."

"I would say that!" Sirius gaped at the mess, walking into the center of the room to survey the extinct of the damage. "We have to find you a better outlet or we might come home one day to find the Mansion in ruins."

Harry flushed in embarrassment.

"And why the hell are you throwing your pets around—they're not quaffles, you know." The man bent down to examine Pipp. "Hey, I thought the puff ball was black?"

"Black?" Harry asked in bewilderment. "Since when? It _was_ purple but now it looks like…eugh…"

Sirius scooped up Pipp and eyed the creature. "You poor thing," he cooed. "Is Harry being a big meanie to you? Is he throwing you around like popcorn? Sirius will protect you from evil, yes he _will_."

"Sirius," Harry said, feeling scared for his life. "You're freaking me out."

"I think you've freaked Pipp out after tossing him around like dirty laundry. Apologize." He held out the Puff eye level towards Harry. The creature didn't look traumatized.

"No."

"Now Harry," Sirius' face darkened. "Apologize. Now."

"You're drunk." Harry said conclusively, backing up suddenly with throb of true fear. He'd dealt with drunken people before and the outcome was never a good one. He reached a hand back and fumbled with the door knob, planning to take off.

Sirius lowered the Puff, looking appalled at his godson's reaction. "No, Harry—I was just goofing off with you, I swear. I'm not drunk—I swear to you I'm not drunk…I was just playing."

Harry studied the man for several minutes and Sirius didn't move as though he was aware of the delicate situation he had created. "Ok." Harry said slowly, though he didn't budge.

Sirius dropped Pipp back onto the mattress and slowly moved towards Harry, hands raised to show he wasn't a threat. He crouched down and gently gripped his godson's shoulders, forcing the boy to look into his eyes. "Now what was that all about? Did you think I was going to hurt you?"

Harry shook his head immediately but Sirius didn't look convinced. "I told you Harry—no, look at me when I say this," for Harry had averted his eyes. "I swear to never raise a violent hand towards you nor will I ever beat you. Do you believe me?"

Harry looked the man straight in the eye and he saw the sincerity in their ice blue depths. "Yes." He whispered.

"Is that what your Uncle did to you when he was drunk? Did he beat you?"

Silence. Then: "Yes." It was barely a whisper.

"How bad, Harry? How bad did he hurt you?" Sirius braced himself for the answer.

Harry shrugged, averting his eyes in shame. Sirius took a hand off one of Harry's arms and made Harry look at him again.

"It was bad, wasn't it?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Really bad."

"Is that what happened to your back?"

And Harry suddenly found himself trapped in a dark room curled up on the floor as his uncle wheeled the small whip Aunt Marge used to use for her bull dogs. The terror, the desperation, the hope that this time his uncle would beat him so bad he wouldn't live to endure the next time he was submitted to this, it all flooded Harry as he stifled back cries, choking on his own snot and tears. Harry quickly pushed back the memory. "Yes." He answered and it felt as though Harry had admitted to a horrible sin and he shuddered.

Sirius closed his eyes, hiding the anger and horror that he was feeling. After he had gotten control of himself, he spoke: "I promise to never hurt you Harry."

Harry fixed his godfather with a piercing stare. "But you hurt Remus." He accused, making Sirius do a double take.

"Yes, but I thought—"

"It doesn't matter," Harry snapped back, regaining confidence. "If I really had died, it still would've give you the okay to tear your best mate apart! I was the one who was wandered off—Remus didn't _ask_ the death eaters to come and attack us!"

Sirius sighed, his expression pained. "I guess…I guess I should go talk to him, shouldn't I?"

Harry nodded frantically, surprised at how fast Sirius had gotten to that conclusion.

"What about this mess, then?"

Harry blinked then glanced around his room, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sirius figured he should've been used to it by now but he felt his jaw go slack as he watched the room dutifully begin to put itself back together again. The Puff rose from the mattress and floated into Harry's waiting arms where the boy put it on his shoulder, letting it cling to his shirt in content. The blood color was fading from the Pipp's fur and it was changing to a rosy hue of yellow.

"Is that natural?" Harry asked, looking as though he was about to fling his pet again.

"Sure it is," Sirius said quickly, eyeing the puff ball before surveying the now immaculate room. He ruffled Harry's hair, laughing when Harry gave a noise of protest as he turned to leave, bracing himself as he headed for the lion's den.

_****Sirius_

"Remus…" Sirius stood in his friend's temporary room, studying his friend who had been laying listlessly in his bed, riding over the obvious waves of pain in silence. "Remus…I'm…I'm _so _sorry…"

"Save it, Sirius," Remus said through clenched teeth.

"No, Remus let me say this—what I said was completely and undeniably wrong and I know it hurt you and I deserve the deepest circle of hell for pushing the blame on you where it did not belong."

Remus studied him with an unreadable gaze. His eyes had faded to the normal blue-green color, flecked with the bits of amber.

"I am really, really so—"

"Sirius, please—just shut up for a second."

"But Remus…"

"I said shut up," Remus struggled to prop himself up on his elbow and it bothered Sirius deeply when he saw the streak of pain that flashed across his friend's face. "I don't want to hear anymo—"

"Please, Remus just hear me ou—"

"No!" Remus snapped and sucked in a quick breath of pain. His face softened. "What I mean to say is…I don't want to hear anymore apologies, because I forgive you. Harry was right. I was being childish and immature holding a grudge against you after you had outright apologized and for that _I _apologize. What you said—yeah it hurt like hell—but I know you were in pain as well."

Sirius was slack jaw. "That's not excuse for what I said, Moony! I was shouting at you while could barely breathe. I wasn't being that much of a friend and you're being a push-over for accepting my apology so readily—hell you even apologized to me for holding a grudge against me that I rightly deserved! Shout at me! Yell at me! Tell how much you hate my guts!"

"Hardly," Remus grunted, gingerly touching his ribs as though he was trying to will the pain away. "You were right though, I should've been more assertive in watching over Harry—instead I let someone woman catch my fancy…"

"Stop being so _good_ Remus! It's sickening me. You're supposed to be hexing me by now." Sirius threw his hands up in exasperation. "You're always forgiving people, apologizing when you hold a grudge, and keeping your anger to yourself. And you always got away with so much at Hogwarts because you were so apologetic. Why? Why are you doing to this me? Why are you so good?"

"At least I try!" Remus retorted.

"Well, as long as you're trying to be good, you can do whatever you want." Sirius shot back.

"And as long as you're not trying, you can _say_ whatever you want." Remus spat, his face flushing red.

"So between us we can do anything. We can rule the world!" Sirius punched the air dramatically.

Silence. Remus cracked a smile, then a bubble of laughter escaped his lips and he immediately winced, causing Sirius to let out a bark of laughter.

"I'm glad you find my pain amusing, Padfoot." He said wryly. "Do you really think we could rule the world?"

"Moony, with my good looks and quick wit put together with your brains—we could rule more than the world. We could rule the universe."

_****Remus_

"No, Harry, you have to hold the wand like _this_." Remus said for the fifth time, doing to his best to hide his fading patience as he stepped forward to readjust the way Harry was holding his wand. The boy remained stiff with his hands clenched. His eyes looked dark as he glared at seemingly everything.

The boy looked positively miserable. And Remus felt a sudden wave of pity.

"Please, Harry…at least try. It's quite simple, really—it's the first spell that the first years learn when they first arrive at Hogwarts. Now listen carefully: _Wingardium Leviosa._" The quill Remus had grabbed levitated a couple inches off the desk, hovering quite flawlessly in the air. He lowered the quill back down and let it rest. "See? Now you try."

Nothing. Harry let his wand droop slightly.

"Harry." Remus said sternly. "Go on, give it a try. If I don't get you somewhat caught up then you won't be able to attend Hogwarts this year."

Harry seemed to mull over this for several seconds. Then he submissively raised his wand to point at the quill before he mumbled the spell.

"No, _Harry_, its _swish, _than _flick!_" Remus couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice this time and he saw Harry flinch when Remus went to adjust the way he was holding his wand. _Calm. Calm. Calm_. Remus inwardly chanted. He drew in a deep breath. "And say the spell louder. How is the wand supposed to know what you want if you don't enunciate?"

Harry _swished, _than _flicked_ but he mumbled the spell again, his glare deepening and Remus could see the boy's jaw beginning to work.

"Say it with more feeling this time, Harry." Remus coaxed with a strained voice.

"I don't want to," Harry bit back stubbornly.

Remus closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and placing a careful hand on his ribs as he did. They were still aching even after a week of bed rest and he would still find himself struggling for breath between the sparks of pain. "Why don't you?"

"It's stupid."

Remus bit back a growl. "That's not a valid reason so, please, continue. Try it again—_swish _than _flick_ and say as though you mean it."

"No."

Remus blinked at the blatant defiance that Harry had just displayed, his first true teenage act since he had joined Sirius and Remus. For a moment he didn't know what to say.

"Harry—this is not up for debate," he said finally. "This is your education in question."

"My education is fine." Harry retorted, dropping his wand on the floor.

"Harry," Remus spoke very quietly, his voice warning. "Pick up the wand."

Harry glared right back with his piercing jewels that seemed to darken in his rage.

"Harry. Pick. Up. Your. Wand."

"No." the boy kicked the wand away and it rolled beneath the coffee table.

That did it. "_Harry!_" Remus snapped, slamming his hand down onto the table. His voice got lower with each word. "You will listen to me and you will listen to me closely. You will pick up that wand and you will perform that spell correctly or you will find yourself grounded to your room while Sirius and I go to spend the day with the Weasley's tomorrow."

Harry didn't move. Didn't speak.

"You are trying my patience, young man. Do as you're told."

Nothing. An icy glare.

"_Harry!"_

"FINE!" Harry flung his hand out and his wand responded with lightening speed. His grasped the holly wand and jabbed it at the quill. With a violent hiss of air and flying black sparks, the quill shot up like a rocket, shooting straight through the ceiling overhead, leaving behind a pin-prick of a hole. The quill wasn't the only thing to shot up. A heavy Potions book followed as well as the chair from the desk. The book went straight through the plaster but the chair slammed back and hit the floor in a pile of wood. The last thing that followed was Remus china cup which shattered against the ceiling and sent tea raining down on both Harry and Remus.

Silence. Remus counted back from a hundred and fifty before he spoke again. "I think it'd be best if you went up to your room now, Harry."

Harry didn't argue. He trudged towards the staircase, giving Remus a wide birth before bursting into a sprint. He waited until he heard Harry's bedroom door slam before letting his body deflate.

This could definitely relay a problem.

After reiterating what happened later in the day to Sirius after the man returned from Diagon Alley and showing him the holes in the ceiling, Remus voiced his fears.

"What if we can't teach Harry to control his magic?" Remus asked, gingerly lowering himself onto the couch chair. "What if he won't let us help him control his magic?"

Sirius gave him an odd look. "Harry is not going to be the next dark lord, if that's what you're implying," he man said.

Remus gave his friend a frustrated look. "It's a viable concern. Yes, it's not a pretty picture to think about but it's quite possible. I am ninety-nine percent sure that Harry could duel us both _and _beat us without using his wand. How did the boy develop such a powerful sense of magic with no tutelage? If Harry can control such a level of magic without channeling it through a wand, image his capabilities when he _does _start using a wand. Look at the ceiling!"

"Well…it probably came from a strong instinct of survival. Harry has yet to tell us anything but I wouldn't doubt that if Harry hadn't developed such a keen sense of magic, he probably wouldn't be with us right now." Sirius sighed. "As of earlier today—we both know Harry is terrified of his capabilities, maybe…maybe the wand just adds to that fear."

Remus looked surprised. "How surprisingly diabolical, Sirius." Remus commended. "I'm impressed."

Sirius puffed out his chest. "As you should be. But…well…don't expect that too often now. I have a reputation to uphold."

Remus rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Remus," Harry's small voice gave Remus a slight start. He looked up from his book and saw the boy standing just inside the threshold of the library. "I'm sorry."

Remus sighed and closed his book, gesturing for the child to join him. Harry obeyed, looking nervous. "Why were you being so difficult earlier, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, picking at the sleeve of Remus' shirt, avoiding his guardian's eyes.

"There has to be a reason, Harry, unless you want to blame it on the 'moody teenage syndrome.'"

Harry cracked a smile but shook his head, looking embarrassed. "I just…I don't see the point."

"The point of what?"

"Learning all those spells and the silly movements of the wand. All I have to do is just, well, _think _it and it happens. So why should I learn that other stuff?"

"You realize, Harry, that once you learn to channel your magic through a wand, and how to see the spells out loud, your magic will grow stronger than just using wandless and wordless."

Harry didn't answer. Remus studied his young charge.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Harry sighed. "It's…well…really _hard_ to just suddenly start doing all this stuff. I spent the last twelve years of my life with the Dursleys doing everything within their power to beat the idea of magic out of me."

"Does it frighten you?" Remus asked.

"No!" Harry answered fast. "I mean…it just makes me a little nervous."

"You shouldn't be."

"I know." Harry looked suddenly pale and his voice came as barely a whisper when he spoke next. "Are you going to punish me?"

Remus blinked at this question. Was he? "Now, Harry," He reached to place his hand on his charge's shoulder and to his horror, Harry flinched back violently, jerking out of Remus reach.

"Oh Harry," Remus spoke breathlessly, for his ribs suddenly seared with pain. "I wasn't going to strike you. Don't you know that?"

Harry nodded quickly. "'m sorry," he mumbled. "I just…just thought you were—um….going to punish me."

Remus swallowed hard. Obviously, Remus' form of punishment was vastly different from what Harry had been thinking. "You will never be punished in a such a manner, Harry," Remus said firmly. "Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, still looking nervous.

"Now, since you came to me and apologized, and if you promise to practice your spells, I'll let things slide this time and you may come to the Weasley's with us tomorrow."

Harry nodded, still looking unconvinced.

Remus' heart suddenly hurt. "Come here, Harry." Without waiting for Harry, he pulled the boy towards him and hugged him as fiercely as his own ribs would allow. "Just give magic a chance Harry and it will open so many doors for you."

"You'll have so much fun, pup, when you go to Hogwarts," Sirius added from across the room, where he had been watching the exchange silently up till now. "Tons of friends, Quidditch, hot witches…"

"Sirius!" Remus spoke sharply, releasing Harry from the smothering hug. "Don't put notions into you're godson's head. He's there to learn, not to '_pick up chics'_."

Sirius barked with laughter.

"Besides, I think Harry needs to have The Talk first."

Sirius immediately silenced himself and he eyed Harry like he was a strange specimen.

"Remus!" Harry cried, looking mortified. "I all ready know all that stuff!"

Both men gave a sigh of relief.

Harry continued to blush furiously and he fumbled for a new topic to discuss, lest things got stranger. "So, when _does_ Hogwarts start?"

"A month and half," Remus answered. "You should be getting your letter soon."

"My letter?"

"Hmmhm." Remus answered absentmindedly as he placed the book back on the shelf.

"You excited, kiddo?" Sirius asked.

"I guess." Harry answered. In truth, his was nervous and he desperately hoped that his peers would accept him as one of their own. Sirius must have saw this for he ruffled Harry's hair affectionately as the three made their way up to their rooms.

"You'll be just fine. I spent the best years of my life at Hogwarts. I met your dad on the train when he was trying teasing your mother by tugging on her braid. He was smitten from first glance." Sirius smiled fondly.

"How'd you meet Remus?" Harry asked curiously.

Sirius' expression turned grim for a moment, "He was cornered by some Slytherin kids who were bullying him and James and I happened to be walking by. We sure gave those Slytherins some nasty hexes! Your father and I were quite a team!"

Harry mulled over this as he laid in bed that night. He tossed and turned, trying to picture his father and mother in his head, trying to grasp on to some sort of memory he might have of them. He fell asleep like this and in his dream, he was flying on a broom stick, tossing around an odd shaped ball with his parents but when he looked up as they called his name, where their faces were supposed to be were only clouds and Harry woke in the middle of the night feeling frustrated and confused.

He was surprised and slightly startled that Padfoot was lying curled up by his feet. The large dog raised his head at seeing Harry awake and cocked its ears in question. Harry patted the space next to him and Padfoot obliged, scooting his furry body to curl up next to Harry's. Harry clutched at the soft fur and laid his head against the dog, feeling secure. He fell back asleep to the steady thrumming of Padfoot's heart.

**Harry plays Quidditch next chapter! Please read and review!**


	9. Fear of Rats

_When my life is like a storm;_

_Rising waters, all I want is the shore._

_Every day's the same_

_He fights to find his way_

_He hurts, he breaks, he hides_

_And tries to pray_

_He wonders why?_

_Does anyone ever hear him when he cries?_

_At first, Remus felt nothing—only shock at what had just happened. He saw Addison's horrified face and was confused as to why she was looking at him like that. But she hadn't been looking directly back at him, he grasped, but at his chest. Remus looked down and at first it looked like black ink staining his pale blue shirt but when he touched it, his hand came away red. It was blood, _his blood,_ he realized suddenly and he looked down again to see the dark splotch rapidly becoming bigger and bigger until it began to drip down his pant leg and onto the floor._

_ Then Remus felt the pain._

_ It was horrible, searing—a breath taking pain that he had never experienced before even when he had fallen twenty feet from his broom while playing with James and Sirius and had broken his arm. The edges of his vision grew white and blurred and his knees buckled under his weight. His head bounced off the floor but the pain of that was nothing compared to his side._

_ "Can't—breathe—" he gasped to anyone would hear him. "—help—"…_

Remus jerked awake, his hand flying to his side. It felt dry enough and when he looked down, all he saw was the white bandage peeking out from beneath his tee-shirt from where it has pushed up during the night. He sighed in relief. _It was just a dream. _He thought, breathing deeply. His relief was short lived, however, when movement to his right made him jump.

"Bloody hell, Sirius!" He gasped, startled, "what the hell are you doing in my room?"

Sirius turned around in shock at being caught, looking extremely guilty—like a child whose hand had been caught stealing biscuits from the counter.

Remus looked closer, struggling to sit up. His eyes widened. "You've been digging through my chocolate!" he accused in horror. "That's _my _chocolate!"

"No! I haven't—I swear!"

"Then what's that on your face, you fiend! A _birthmark_?"

Sirius swiped at his red face, "No!" he cried, feeling his life was in imminent danger from the savage look on Remus' face. "I had hot chocolate this morning—I swear on my mother's grave! I was just looking for a book—you know, that book you're always talking about—I think it was cal—"

"_LIAR!_" Remus snarled like a wild animal. "You've eaten _MY_ _CHOCOLATE!"_

"Now, Remus—you'll wake Harry if you keep going on like that—"

"You-you don't even _like_ to read!" Remus' eyes burned gold as he swelled like an enraged blowfish. "I'll _kill_ you!"

"Okay, maybe I had like two pieces—but that was it! I was really craving—well—you know with all the stuff that's been happening…I'LL BUY YOU MORE!" Sirius cried hurriedly when he saw the werewolf bare his teeth and curl his hands like claws.

"_Augghh_!" Remus shrieked.

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!" Sirius begged, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I'll buy you more—I swear to it! Today! I'll do it today! I'll go right now!"

"Right now!" Remus demanded in a tone so vicious that it would've made Voldemort cower.

"Okay! Okay! I'm going—right now—I'm going right now!"

"And it better be _Honeydukes. Finest. CHOCOLATE!" _the werewolf howled after Sirius' retreating figure.

Outside of Remus' room, Sirius spotted Harry shuffling down the hall, sleepily rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up haphazardly.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he yawned. "Is Remus okay?"

"Don't go in there, Pup!" Sirius dove for his godson, rescuing him before he could enter Remus' room and hefted the boy up and threw him over his shoulder, hurrying them both to the kitchen. "Moony's having a break down—let's just give him some space for a little bit."

Poor Harry, feeling extremely confused after being thrown over his godfather's shoulder, asked in bewilderment, "Moony's having a break down? Why what happened? Is he hurt?"

"No, Pup, he's just fine. He's just suffering from a severe case of PMS."

"But I thought only girls—_oomph_!"

Sirius had dropped him onto the couch and Harry watched as Sirius wrung his hands, looking nervous.

"Harry…" Sirius looked over his shoulder as though he feared he was about to be attacked. "Harry, I have to go to Diagon Alley, but you have to stay here. Do you know how to cook cereal? Of course you do—wait, can you cook cereal?"

Harry furrowed his brow, "I don't think—"

"Just poor the milk in then—no stove involved…unless you want to to—no, don't touch the stove, you might set the house on fire."

"Sirius, are you all right? You sure are acting funny—and why do you have chocolate all over your face?"

"I didn't do it!" Sirius screeched, making Harry jump back in fright. "I swear! I was having cravings!"

Harry jumped off the couch, eyes wide, "Reemmuuss!" He yelled out, making to run for freedom. "Sirius has gone bonkers!"

Sirius quickly grabbed his godson's shoulders and the boy yelped. "Do you want to be eaten, Harry?" Sirius demanded, giving the boy a good shake.

"N-no."

"I didn't think so! And let me tell you: it is not a pleasant sensation!"

"How many times have _you _been eaten?" Harry asked sarcastically, but Sirius had stood to retrieve his cloak. The man grabbed a handful of powder but paused before he stepped into the fireplace as though he forgot something.

"Make sure you pack a bag, Harry," Sirius said.

Harry's heart suddenly seared. "Why?" he asked, trying to push back his panic.

"You're going to stay at the Weasley's for a night or two."

"But I don't wa—"

A flash of green fire and Sirius was gone.

*****_Harry_

Harry couldn't eat even if he wanted to. He stared at the empty fireplace, heart pounding. Had he done something wrong? Is that why Sirius was acting weird? Harry did a quick mental inventory—yes he had been impertinent last night but he had thought they had forgiven him. Was he really so much of a hassle, that they needed a break from him for a couple days? For a while Harry only stood rooted to that same spot where Sirius had left him, breathing quick and shallow. His forehead was started to throb and he rubbed at his scar, wondering how a scar that was twelve years old could start to act up on its own accord. He stayed until his legs began to ache and his head began to spin for he had locked his knees while standing.

Bending his knees several times to get the blood flowing, Harry made his way to his guardian's bedroom and hesitated when he found that the door was shut. He traced the patterns in the grain, leaning his head against the wood, listening hard for any sound of movement on the other side.

"Remus?" he whispered softly, knowing his guardian wouldn't be able to hear him but he hoped anyways.

When no answer came, Harry lost his nerve and backed away from the door, dragging his feet as he made his way to the common room. The room looked normal enough and no sign of him having a seizure showed. He ran a finger gently along the ivory of the grand piano; he softly played out a C scale and froze, waiting with bated breath to see if he had disturbed the other occupant of the household. He changed the C to a B minor as he carefully lowered himself on the bench. He paused again and waited.

When nothing happened, he played out a couple of little numbers, but he let his mind wander. In the beginning, the only reason he had started piano lessons when he was five years old was to spend more time at school and less time at the Dursley's. He had begged his music teacher and told him he would clean his classroom in exchange. Maybe the elderly man had seen his desperation for the man consented but refused to let Harry clean his classroom. Every day, for five days a week, Harry would stay an hour later after school learning about notes, and arpeggios, scales and whatnots. One day, when Harry had come into music class supporting a black eye and twenty stitches, Mr. Nelson had added Saturday to Harry's lessons and the boy would go to the man's house to spend the mornings with him and his wife and their two small pugs which Harry had fallen in love with. The couple had offered to give Harry one of the puppies that the dog had given birth to. Though Harry wanted with his whole being to say yes, he remembered the incident with the kitten he had pulled out of the dumpster and Harry couldn't place such a fate on another living creature. So, fighting his tears back, he had said no and explained that his aunt was allergic. He had been eight then.

His aunt and uncle never questioned his where abouts for as long as he finished his chores on time. There were those days though, when Harry was late and was sent down to the basement for a 'stern talking to'. Harry always hated going to school after those sorts of days—he hated the whisperings and the pointing and the odd glances from his teachers. Harry often wondered why they never did anything about it. Were they as scared of his uncle as he was? Harry didn't know. Mr. Nelson never asked but Harry was pretty sure the man knew for once Harry had overheard a heated argument between him and the principal and he had heard his name mentioned several times which ended with Nelson storming from the room. He didn't seem to be surprised to see Harry standing there.

"Hello, Harry," he had said somewhat distantly. "There's no lesson today, ice cream instead?"

Harry had nodded for he never disagreed with an adult and the man had taken him to Cold Stone Creamery where Harry been at a loss.

"Haven't you ever had ice cream before?" his teacher had demanded.

Harry shook his head. He had spoken very, very rarely when he was younger and Mr. Nelson was used to his silence. Muttering angrily to himself, Nelson ordered for him, and Harry felt like he had floated to Heaven after his first bite.

Harry had found that he very much liked playing the piano, and Mr. Nelson had often commented that Harry was a natural. Harry had thought the man was only being nice but he was in for a surprise when his music teacher had entered him into the Blue Ribbon Festival when he was ten years old—only a few days from his eleventh birthday. Harry had snuck out of the house to participate for the competition was in Columbus and he would be staying overnight with his teacher and his wife. That night had been the first time he had ever slept in a real bed.

Harry remember feeling so smug for himself as he rode home with Mr. Nelson and Mrs. Nelson, clutching his blue ribbon in one hand and the small, gold trophy in the other. He remembered marveling at his reflection that glittered back at him from the smooth surface of the Treble Cleft. _Who would've thought that I was actually good at something?_ Harry had thought with a rare smile on his face.

Harry wished he had left the items in the Nelsons' car for even though he had tried to hide them from his uncle, there was no escaping the man when he was drunk and angry. That night had been hell on earth for Harry and it made him nauseas just to remember it. His hands paused over the keyboard and he clenched his eyes shut, struggling to calm himself, fighting back the memories that threatened to take him over.

_Darkness, tears, pain—unreal—the smell of blood, metallic and burning…someone was screaming for the end…_

Harry pushed himself away from the piano and he was on his feet, chest heaving, remembering. Harry had missed a week of school, shivering, vomiting, bleeding as he lay strewn in the little cupboard in the basement, forgotten, uncared for. He had laid so still that the spiders began to skitter over him as though he was part of the floor; time seemed to pass so much slower—he counted each second with each aching breath he fought for until he lost count, until he forgot what light was, until only darkness, pain, and blood existed.

Harry didn't know how he had survived. He hated the fact that he had survived. He had sobbed when he had woken up after the fifth day and realized that he was still breathing, that nothing had changed and he knew the vicious cycle would continue until his stupid magic was not fast enough to keep his heart beating.

He remembered eyeing his Uncle's butcher knives and he had wondered what the fastest way was to kill oneself with a knife. Harry had researched it—studying the body's breakdown systems and survival probabilities. He had come to the conclusion that sleeping pills, instead of a knife, were the fastest, least painful way to off himself. And he knew that his Aunt kept a bottle on the highest shelf in the medicine cabinet. Harry had been eleven years old.

He remembered holding the bottle and pouring out its contents onto the counter. He had counted the little white pills. Twenty-five. More than enough. He contemplated. Could he really do this? The voice of reason argued with him and he argued back. But what would it prove? That the Dursley's had finally won? That they had finally gotten their wish? Harry was pretty sure he stood there for more than an hour, staring at the answer to his way out of hell. Would he go to Heaven after this life? He remembered the Pastor at his relatives' church saying that suicide was a sin because it took away what was given to you freely. But would God really condemn him to Hell if he was only trying to escape it in the first place? Did he really deserve a life of pain and hate? Wouldn't God want him to _not_ suffer?

Harry remembered praying that day, asking God for forgiveness and perhaps to overlook what he was about to do because he had a liable reason. He was being abused—beaten, starved, stripped of the innocence that every child should have. He thought God would understand his predicament. Besides, he reasoned, if God didn't want him, Hell with the devil had to be better than this.

But he didn't want the Dursleys to the win. He didn't want to give them that pleasure. With trembling hands he pushed the pills back into the bottle one at a time, wanting nothing but to pop them into his mouth and to swallow away his life.

"_What are you doing?_" His Aunt's screech had made him jump in terror and the little white pills scattered on the tile floor. She had slapped him so hard that he fell, cracking his elbow against the ceramic counter, spitting out blood.

Harry didn't realize then that he had won not only the battle, but the war that day as well. He could've taken his own life easily but he chose not to and with that decision, he became a stronger person. He didn't feel strong, though when he walked into music class the next day after missing an entire week. Mr. Nelson had pulled him into his office and had shut the door. Unexpectedly, the man, after examining Harry's healing injuries from head to toe, had pulled him into a tight, but gentle hug and the alien touch made Harry stiffen in terror.

"I had thought the worst, Harry." The man had murmured.

Harry didn't speak for in his head he knew that there were worst things than death.

"I've tried everything—but it's like everything I've said, every letter I have written seems to fall on deaf ears."

Harry had closed his eyes, for there was no answer that he could give. He relished the loving touch of another and realized that God had answered his prayer when he had asked for help. The answer had come in the form of an elderly music teacher, his kindly old wife, and their little, chubby pugs. Though they could do nothing about Harry's situation, they could offer him a few hours of haven before he was dragged back down to Hell.

_*******************************Story2Tell**************************************_

Harry stood as silent as a sage outside of Remus' door, waiting, hoping that Remus would somehow know he was there. He was still trembling from the aftermath of his memories and he wished for Remus' comfort. He laid the side of his head against the door, and his pressed his palms against the wood, willing it to send his message of help to Remus.

Nothing. He raised his fist to knock but fear held him back. Would the man be angry for disturbing his rest? He drew in a deep breath—if he could face the Dursleys, he could face his guardian…couldn't he?

His magic must have been much braver than he was for the door suddenly eased open and Harry barely stopped himself from crying out. Remus was sleeping with his back to the door. Harry remained frozen and it was a while before Harry mustered the courage to move, his knees knocking together as he struggled with his inner self. When he had finally gathered enough nerve, Harry stepped slowly, lightly across the carpet as though he was approaching a slumbering dragon and he stood before his guardian. Carefully, hesitantly, he touched a gentle finger to Remus' shoulder.

The man didn't move.

"Remus?" Harry whispered.

Silence.

Harry was sure his pounding heart would wake Remus before his voice would. "Remus?" he spoke a little louder this time and his heart leapt when the man shifted slightly.

"Hmmm?" came the mumbled answer.

"Remus…I'm…I'm scared…"

"Uhmmhmm." Then nothing.

Harry lay on a hand on Remus' shoulder and gave it a careful shake. "Remus?"

Remus grunted, his eyes closed.

"I…please…" Harry struggled for words. "I'm _scared_."

Remus suddenly rolled away from Harry's hand and Harry jumped back in alarm.

"'m sleeping—go 'way," Remus' irritated voice was muffled by his pillow but Harry heard every word as if they were hammer blows. Hurt, angry tears stung his eyes. Harry ran from Remus' room, his heart thumping. It took everything within him to stop himself from slamming the door shut.

_Remus hated him! _Harry's mind screamed at him and Harry stormed down the corridor of the Potter Mansion and through the kitchen, his breath hitching as he tried to push back the hurt of rejection. He let the screen door slam behind him and Harry found himself momentarily blinded by sunlight. He breathed in the air; it tasted of grass, earth, and flowers. The sky was a cloudless blue and sun was a blinding orb of yellow-white. It was the first time he had been outside of the Mansion and he studied his surroundings as he let his emotions calm.

There wasn't another house within sight—only grass, trees and a courtyard just to Harry's left. The trees just beyond the hedged courtyard formed a small forest that drew Harry's curiosity and took his thoughts away from his godfathers. Harry made his way towards the large courtyard, pushing open the small gate open.

Harry's first thought was that he couldn't remember being in any place as beautiful as this. There were literally thousands of flowers in dozens of different colors. Nobody had obviously kept the gardens tamed for the flowers grew over the walkways and tangled with each other. Harry didn't see any weeds though, and he was surprised by this. Was there some sort of magic that made weeds never grow? Harry was sure that even Aunt Petunia would not be able to deny such a luxury. Then again, it was never her that pulled the weeds in the first place, but him.

As Harry walked along the stone path, his fingers brushed flowers ranging from roses, daffodils, petunias, violets, tulips, and ones that Harry couldn't even begin to recognize. A small creek curved gently through the flowerbeds, laughing and bubbling as it tripped and fell over stones. Crouching down, Harry let the cold water run over his fingers, tickling his palms and he enjoyed the sensation. Brushing his hands off on his jeans, Harry stood and hopped out onto a rock that jutted out of the water. It took a moment for Harry to fully balance himself but when he did, he started to hop the dry rocks along the creek bed.

About twenty feet down, Harry found that the narrow creek spilled into a vast pond that was nearly covered with lilies of a brilliant purple. In awe of it, Harry carefully stepped back onto solid earth and circled the pond, taking note of the colorful fish that darted just below the glittering surface.

Just around the pond, an elderly tree stood tall and regal, as though it was guarding the pond like a precious jewel. A roped, wide swing hung from a thick branch. Harry gave it a light push and wondered if his dad had swung on this when he was a kid. Or maybe his dad had pushed his mum in this swing and for a moment the wind that tugged on Harry's hair and clothes sounded like a quiet ripple of laughter, almost like the echo of memory that still lingered in this enchanted place and the swing creaked softly as it swayed. The feeling though, was quickly chased away by a deep sadness, a longing for something he never had the chance to grasp in the first place. It was a feeling somewhat like homesickness though Harry didn't know what home he was sick for. He'd never had one and it hurt him to think like that.

Oh, how he missed his parents now that he knew the truth!

Harry sank down into the tall grass and flowers, trying to get that feeling of closeness to return. He didn't understand and he felt frustrated and pained all at the same time. He wondered: how could he miss these two people, these two strangers so much...that he'd never even met? Harry hugged his arms to his stomach, trying to keep himself together. Why did it hurt so much all of a sudden? Sure, Harry had longed for loving parents ever since he could remember but it had never been like this, it had never been this powerful of an emotion. Was it because Harry had come across a place that made his parents seem just beyond his fingertips? A place that could Harry could almost see what could have been his and knew he'd never come close to having it?

Harry didn't know how long he'd sat there but it was when the sun had begun to sink towards the faraway mountains and the shadows had grown long that Harry stood up. There was no friendly breeze now, only stillness, and the roped swing hung motionless, lifeless, and the gathering clouds had sucked the brilliant colors from the flowers surrounding him. The garden didn't seem so inviting to him anymore and Harry shivered in the growing cold. He walked quickly to the back of the courtyard, no longer engaged by his surroundings. He knew he would be in trouble for being gone so long but Harry wondered if Remus even _noticed_ his absent and he suddenly ached at that thought.

Outside the back gate, Harry found himself even closer to the forest then he originally thought he would be. He wandered closer to its edge but it didn't look as inviting or fun as it had in the earlier sunlight. It now looked dark and foreboding and Harry was too nervous to enter the shadowy brush that seemed to glower at him. No, it wasn't the forest that was glowering at him it was the…

Harry yelped and leapt backwards when he spotted the pair of glowing eyes watching him from above. He struggled to pull out his wand.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

The pair of eyes gave no answer.

"Tell me your name!" he flicked his wand warningly and black and gold sparks spouted from it's top.

The only sound he heard was the soft, plaintive cry of a kitten's_ meow._

Harry immediately straightened. He peered closer at the high branch and he raised his wand. It ignited like a touch and emitted a bright white light. He was surprised to see the outline of a small cat huddled on the thick branch. Harry could tell it was shivering.

Harry lowered his wand and went up to the tree. He looked up at the baby cat and it looked down at him in an almost pleading manner. It was a small, dark calico kitten with blue eyes as pale as the winter's moon and the hazel and red marks on its face gave it a somewhat exotic look.

"Are you stuck, little cat?" he asked, knowing the creature wouldn't answer him back.

He pocketed his wand and surveyed the tree that the cat was stuck in. The branch seemed very high off the ground but Harry was pretty sure that he could climb to it. He had climbed trees often back in Troy to escape his cousin's Harry Hunting. Harry bent himself at the knees and jumped for the first branch. He swung on it a couple seconds before he got enough momentum to swing his legs up to wrap around the bark. From there, he struggled slightly to clamber up. He had to stand on tip toes, balancing himself carefully, so that he could reach the next branch. Digging his shoes into the bark, he heaved himself up.

"I'm coming cat," he called softly to the little beast. He received a faint _meow_ in response.

It took a good ten or so minutes before Harry had climbed to the cat's branch. The kitten studied him and Harry prayed it didn't jump in fear when he reached for it. To his immense relief, the baby cat didn't even flinch when Harry scooped it up with his hand, as though it understood that Harry had come to rescue it. He clutched the creature to his chest for a few seconds, waiting for its shivering to calm.

He faced a new dilemma. It would be rather difficult to climb down with one hand but he didn't really have much of a choice. Holding the cat tightly with one hand, he carefully began to shimmy down the trunk. It's claws dug into his skin rather painfully and Harry found he could release it and let it cling to his shirt and skin as he used both hands.

"I think I'm going to call you Hobbs after that comic that Uncle Vernon had read to Dudley and Aunt Petunia. That cat was always getting into mischief with Calvin." He informed the cat. "Calvin and Hobbs always made me laugh."

Harry stopped to rest on a particularly wobbly branch. He felt slightly nervous and dizzy at the height he was and he wished Remus or Sirius would find him and help him down.

Harry knew it would take forever if and when his two guardians would find him. So, balancing precariously, Harry stood slowly, preparing himself to climb down to the next branch.

_CRACK_!

Harry yelled out in terror as the branch gave away beneath him. Instinctively he grabbed the kitten with one hand to protect it as the branch dropped out beneath him with a mighty _whoosh_. Harry grappled one-handedly with the side of the tree for a few terrifying seconds, the kitten squirmed against his hand, meowing loudly in its fear. The bark scratched and bit at his skin as he slipped and he grabbed at air, his heart flying to his throat.

The earth rushed to meet him.

**********_Sirius_

Sirius stepped out of the fireplace into a very quiet house. It unnerved him.

"Heelllooo?" he called, frowning when he didn't hear an answer. He made his way up to Harry's room and knocked before opening the door. "Harry?"

The boy wasn't anywhere in sight and Sirius shut the door, making his way to Remus' room with the bag of Honeydukes Finest Chocolate in his hand. His friend was sleeping when he opened the door but Harry wasn't in there with him. Sirius felt a sudden throb of nervousness.

"Hey Remus," he said loudly, sighing when his friend remained motionless. Remus was always like this the day before a full moon and Sirius was used to it, having been around the symptoms too many years. He shook the werewolf gently, aware of his sore ribs, but hard enough to make Remus open his eyes.

"What?" Remus growled. "This is the third time you have waken me up today!"

"Second, actually," Sirius corrected, smiling. "I've brought you your chocolate."

A smile broke across the werewolf's face and he eagerly snatched the bag away, digging through it with fervor. After watching his friend devour several chocolate frogs, Sirius gave Remus his best puppy dog eyes and held out a hand. "May I have one?"

"Mine!" Remus snarled possessively.

"Okay, okay!" Sirius answered defensively. Several minutes past with only the sound of Remus chewing before Sirius spoke again. "Hey, um, do you know where Harry is?"

Remus paused, blinking. "Didn't he go with you?"

Sirius shook his head. "I didn't want to risk another fiasco with him present."

"I haven't seen him since last night." Remus furrowed his brow, lowering his chocolate filled hand.

"He wasn't in his room, the kitchen, or the common room."

Both men sat quietly, letting this sink in before animagus and werewolf met each other eyes instantaneously. Anxiety suddenly filled the air. Remus dropped his chocolate and stood unsteadily. "We need to look then." He announced, dropping his bag of chocolates on the floor. Sirius couldn't help but pause in amazement as he watched several pieces of Honeydukes Finest Chocolates roll under the bed. He had never seen Remus treat his chocolates so carelessly. With a shake of his head, he followed Remus' limping figure out into the hall.

"Harry?" he called.

No answer.

It didn't take too long for their anxiety to morph into panic. After twenty minutes of thorough searching of the Potter Mansion, Sirius and Remus were hollering and arguing with each other.

"Are you sure he didn't follow you into the floo?" Remus asked, wildly throwing open doors along the top floor corridor and calling frantically for Harry.

"I told you he didn't!" Sirius snapped back, his heart pounding madly within his chest. His back was slick with sweat and his shirt stuck to him. The fear that shot through every vein in his body was lanced with adrenaline that made his muscles quiver.

"I _know _what you told me but I just want to be sure! He's only used floo once and if he followed you, he could be anywhere in the world right now!"

"He. Did. Not. _Follow. Me!_" Sirius slammed James' old childhood bedroom door shut with a violent kick of his foot and pain sparked up his shin. "Damn!" he hollered.

"Okay!" Remus shouted back. "This is not a time to panic. We just need to think!"

Both men stood silently as they struggled to calm down, the only sound was of Remus breathing in great gasps, a hand to his ribs. Then it dawned on Sirius with a horrible, glaring light.

"You don't think…you don't think that he… _ran away?_" Sirius could barely get the words past his tight throat. "Do you?"

Remus moaned. "Oh god no…"

"But, Harry would know better wouldn't he?" Sirius tried to reason with himself. "I thought he liked us!"

Remus was panting in rapid and shallow breaths. He leaned heavily against the wall, his face suddenly green. "That boy is so hard to read sometimes." He said in a strained voice. "It was my fault—I was angry with him yesterday and snapped. I scared him."

"No, Remus, he came and apologized _and _gave you a hug goodnight. Unless the kid's bipolar or something…"Sirius ran a nervous hand through his hair, feeling the panic beginning to submerge again. "We gotta find him before he gets too far…"

"Who knows how long ago he ran off!" Remus seemed to escalate to panic much faster. "He could be to halfway across the country by now! To top things off, the full moon rises precisely in four hours and twenty-three minutes!"

Just as the werewolf spouted this, a rumble of thunder growled overhead and both Remus and Sirius automatically raised their heads toward the ceiling. "Shit," Sirius barked. "I was going to transform and try to follow his scent. Shit!" he punched the wall, ignoring the smarting pain that his knuckles protested with.

Remus had pushed himself off the wall and was shuffling towards the staircase. "There's no time to lose. We need to contact Dumbledore and get a search party together." Remus' voice showed how hard he was struggling to maintain control. Sirius couldn't blame the guy. The feeling was so surreal that Sirius didn't know what to do.

If you had never had been a parent before, then the emotions that Sirius and Remus were feeling at that moment could not begin to be described. If you have been a parent in the situation where your child was missing, hurt, or killed then I am so very sorry that you had to go through that. In this moment, both Sirius and Remus were in a place of utter and inexplicable fear. Nothing else mattered. It was a feeling of utter failure, a feeling that you were slowly, painfully being pulled down into a sandpit of horror and it was mere seconds before you were completely covered, before your very soul was snuffed out.

Sirius felt as though he were trapped and he found himself in that same place of sheer dread that he had been in only a week before. Horrible, nightmare-worthy images flashed across his brain in a sickening speed. He could picture Harry being mauled by wild animals, freezing to death from dropping to temperatures; he could see him being tortured by death eaters or picked up by some child molester then dumped in some rubbish yard to rot and die.

"Remus, we have to find him!" Sirius gasped in panic, feeling as though he had very little air to breathe. "We have to find him! He could be killed—or-or _worse—_!"

_Slam!_

Sirius froze and Remus blinked rapidly. "That was the screen door!" he exclaimed.

Sirius was faster being the one with longer legs and no injuries. He sprinted like a man with the devil at his heels; his breaths coming in searing gasps as he hurtled himself down the three sets of staircases, half tripping and stumbling.

Sirius swung himself around the corner and in three long bounds was at the threshold of the kitchen. Relief filled him with burning intensity.

"Oh, Harry—"

Harry stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking very drowned indeed. The boy was shivering from the cold and a puddle began to form beneath him from the water dripping from his clothes and hair. He met Sirius' eyes with piercing emeralds, looking too stoic in this moment filled with such high emotions.

The wonderful relief quickly turned to irrepressible fury.

Sirius grabbed the boy by his upper arms and shook the child good and hard. "Where the _hell_ have you been?" Sirius demanded through clenched teeth. "Where have you been?"

Harry didn't give an answer. He stood silent, his teeth chattering. Droplets of rain clung to his eyelashes and ran down his cheeks when he blinked; they looked like tears.

Sirius felt no sympathy. He shook his godson again, wanting the boy to feel just a tiny bit of terror that he felt only moments before. "Dammit, Harry! Do you know what you put Remus and me through? _Do you_? We thought the worst!" another shake.

Silence. Those brilliant green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the kitchen. They studied Sirius from behind wisps of hair as black as a cold midnight. Those jewels were icy and challenging. Sirius took Harry's glare to be defiance.

"You are _so_ grounded, young man." Sirius thundered, trembling from his rage. "I am going to lock you in your room for a _week_ and you are going to forget what the fuckin' sun looks like—I should tan your backside for what you pulled—do you know there are men out there who would love to kill and torture you?"

Sirius shook the boy again. Harry suddenly let out a small cry of pain and Sirius immediately froze, breathing heavily.

"Sirius Black!" Remus snapped from the doorway. Boy and man whipped their heads around to see the werewolf supporting himself on the doorframe, his face red with exertion and shock. "Control yourself and let Harry go before I snap your arms!"

Sirius released Harry for the first time in five minutes and stepped back, wrestling with his temper and his fear. It was a good couple minutes before he tamed his wild emotions and he looked down at his godson, really _seeing _him for the first time.

Instead of the icy challenge Sirius had seen, it was masked pain and pure fear that made those priceless jewels glitter; Sirius could see that the boy was scowling to keep himself from crying. His glasses were cracked and slightly askew off his ears. The rainwater still running in rivulets down Harry's face and neck was tinged a watery red, like diluted blood. Scratches littered the boy's face, neck, and arms. He was clutching something to his chest with his left hand and his right arm seemed to be hanging at an odd angle. Harry was shaking badly from fear or cold—Sirius wasn't sure which.

"Oh, Harry," Sirius breathed, crouching down to examine his godson, his demeanor much more gentle. "I'm so sorry—you just scared me to death!" Harry pulled back from his godfather, his face dark. Sirius felt another pang of guilt but gently pulled Harry back to him.

Remus joined him, lowering himself gingerly to his knees. "What happened?" He asked, gently cradling Harry's right arm in his hands as he examined it.

Harry winced. "I fell." He answered through chattering teeth.

"From the astronomy tower?" Sirius gasped as his hand came away red with blood after he had run it through Harry's hair, looking for the wound.

"A tree." Harry corrected shortly. "The branch broke. I fell."

"Do you know how far? How high up you were?" Remus asked.

Harry shook his head quickly. "I don't-I don't remember—I think I must've black out or somethin'. I just remember waking up on the ground—I think I was pretty high up…"

Sirius felt his heart clench convulsively. The look on Remus' face showed Sirius that his friend was going through the same thing as well.

"Dear Merlin," Remus scolded gently, reigning in his emotions much better than Sirius was able to. "You could've been killed! Why on earth were you climbing that tree to begin with?"

Harry hesitated for a few moments, before presenting what he had been clutching to his chest. Both Sirius and Remus found themselves staring down at a tiny calico kitten. It's eyes were closed and it seemed to be breathing with some difficulty. "I think he's hurt," Harry said fearfully, looking more childlike then he had ever before. "Can you help him?" his green eyes were pleading.

Carefully, Sirius lifted the runt of a creature from Harry's hand. He could feel the thrumming of its heart against his thumb. "I think it's just in shock." He answered uneasily. "I'll cast a drying spell on it and get it some food."

Harry looked relieved. "I thought I'd killed him when I fell." Then his eyes darted up in panic. "Can I keep him? It wouldn't be a bother at all—"

"We'll see, Harry," Remus replied distantly and Harry wilted in obvious disappointment.

"It looks like it's broken," Remus concluded grimly after several minutes of silence. Harry looked down at the arm Remus was examining. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Both of his godfathers looked at him critically.

Harry faltered. "Well…it hurts a _little_…but I've had worse."

Harry's answer left a sour note in the air. Sirius' anger flared again. He stood quickly, putting distance between him and his godson. He grabbed a tea towel from a cupboard and cast a quick drying spell on the cat before wrapping it tightly in the cloth to keep it warm. He grabbed a pitcher of milk from a chilled cabinet and poured a small bowel of milk, for Sirius had nothing else in the cabinets to satisfy a cat; he magically warmed it and placed by the fire place on the floor, carefully placing the sleeping cat next to it. He sighed and wondered if James had ever done something as stupid as this.

_******Remus_

"Have you got your bags packed?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded silently, not bothering to look up at his guardian. Remus watched as his charge dangled the make-shift toy he had made for Hobbs in front of the kitten who took a clumsy swipe at it with a white-tipped paw. The kitten seemed to be doing a lot better after being cleaned up and fed and he seemed to have no permanent injuries from the fall. He flicked his ears as Harry held the toy up higher and Remus smiled when Hobbs attempted to jump for it, batting it with his tiny paws.

Remus had spent a good hour mending, healing, and fussing over Harry. After he had gotten Harry into a set of warm and dry pajamas, he set Harry's arm and healed the clean break. He was grateful that Harry had not suffered multiple breaks or a shattered bone for Remus would've had to take him to Hogwarts for healing. The head wound had not been serious either and he healed that quite easily.

What had made him nervous was the silent treatment that Harry was giving him. Had he done something wrong? Glancing at the clock to see if he had the time, Remus joined Harry on the floor, wincing as a dull flash of pain pierced his side.

"Hey buddy," he murmured, rubbing a gentle hand on Harry's back. The boy stiffened slightly, his eyes fixated on the kitten he was dangling the toy for. Remus watched in amusement for a moment as Hobbs did an odd sort of dance as he pounced and jumped for the toy, his large blue eyes intent. Then Remus returned to the moment at hand with a frown. "You seem upset."

Silence. Remus hadn't really expected an answer but he had hoped…

"Harry, if I have done something—anything that has hurt you or made you upset, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

Nothing.

"You know I would never get mad if you wanted to talk."

Harry lowered his arm and began to slide the toy along the floor; Hobbs pranced after it happily.

"Is it Sirius? What he did—he's rough sometimes but he was only scared. He'd thought you had been severely hurt. He apologized."

Silence.

Remus sighed. "I know I've been somewhat…_moody_…these past couple days but I always get this way around the full moon because…well…you see…"

"You're a werewolf." Harry spoke suddenly and Remus jumped in surprise. Worry suddenly gripped him. Was this why Harry didn't want to talk to him?

"How did you know?" Remus asked in a whisper.

"I figured it out." Harry answered in a voice barely above a whisper.

_Of course._ Remus thought. The boy had James' cunning and Lily's brains—a deadly combination.

"Is that why…is it…what I mean to say is…well…does it scare you?" Remus cringed as he waited for the rejection.

"No."

Relief! Remus felt as though he had been deflated. He sighed happily. "Then why, Harry? Why are you mad at me? I know you are."

Harry had stopped pulling the toy around and Hobbs had sat back on his haunches, eyeing the toy as though daring it to attempt another escape.

"Please, Harry, I can't stand…"

"It's nothing, Remus," Harry cut him off abruptly. "Just drop it."

"I'm not going to 'just drop it'" Remus said in reproach. "It's obviously something…" he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, forcing the boy to roll onto his back. "Look at me, Harry. Tell me."

Harry's sharp emeralds scrutinized him for a second and Remus waited. Suddenly, a half-smile spread across his face—a smile strangely reminiscent of how James looked when he was feeling mischievous.

"I've been practicing my levitating charm," Harry said.

The boy was diverting him, but Remus decided to humor his godson. "Yeah?" he smiled gently, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Show me."

Harry eagerly sat up and pulled out his wand. With a sharp _swish _then _flick_ he said: "_Wingardium Leviosa._"

The wizard's dictionary that had been resting on the couch rose lazily into the air and hovered for a couple moments before Harry guided it back to its proper place on the book shelf. Once finished, Harry looked at Remus for affirmation, his face alight with pride.

Remus laughed and ruffled Harry's untidy hair. "It was perfect, Harry."

Harry beamed and Remus didn't have the heart to bring up the prior subject again. _Later._ He promised himself.

"Go get your overnight bag, Harry—it's getting late."

Harry stood, scooping up the baby cat. "Can I bring Hobbs?" he asked. "I don't want to leave him here all by himself."

Remus nodded and stood, wincing when the movement pulled at his healing wound.

"Remus?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you remember how Sirius had told me he was going to go to my soccer game?" Harry asked.

Remus thought for a moment. "Well, yes I do, actually—" he stopped himself. "That was yesterday, wasn't it, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

Remus sighed in guilt. "I'm sorry, Harry, there was just so much going on—"

Harry shrugged. "It's okay…but I was wondering, if maybe we could…well…if we could go to my Aunt and Uncle's house soon so I can grab a couple things that I left there."

Remus mentally did a double take. He looked at Harry in surprise. "You want to go back?"

Harry cringed. "As long as you're with me…I mean…they wouldn't touch me if you and Sirius were standing there, would they?"

"They wouldn't dare," Remus murmured, furrowing his brow.

"But there's some stuff there that I don't want to be thrown away." Harry looked up at Remus shyly under his eyelashes.

"I'll talk to Sirius, okay?"

Harry nodded.

He was glad that Harry had turned away, for Remus couldn't suppress the malicious smile that spread over his face.

_****Harry_

Trudging down the rickety staircase of the Weasley household the next morning, Harry rubbed his eyes sleepily, following the tempting smells of a cooking breakfast. The night before had been a restless one, filled with strange dreams. But when Harry had woken to Ron shaking him, he couldn't remember any of it no matter how hard he concentrated.

"Quidditch today?" Ron had asked excitedly.

Harry nodded eagerly, throwing back the covers and flinching when his bare feet touched the cold floor.

"Mum's got breakfast almost ready." The red-headed boy had said and Harry's stomach had answered for him with a rumble of approval.

Rounding the corner to the kitchen Harry was stunned to see Sirius and Remus sitting at the breakfast table. Remus looked pale and drawn but otherwise perfectly healthy.

"Sirius! Remus!" Harry exclaimed, instantly feeling a million times better. He grabbed his godfather around the middle in the tightest hug he could muster. He gave Remus a much gentler hug.

"How'd it go, kiddo?" Sirius asked, looking pleased that Harry had been so happy to see them.

Harry quickly gave his two guardians a rundown of the evening before, with Ron injecting with his bits, telling of how Ron had taught him how to play wizard's chess ("I beat him every time!" Ron had announced, puffing out his thin chest proudly.) and exploding snap! ("They explode right in your face!" Harry had said as though it was the coolest thing to have something explode in your face). Then how Ginny had shown him what gnomes were and how annoying they could be if they took over one's garden. Then all three of them had had a contest of how far they could throw the ugly little creatures. Ron had won ("Of course!"). Harry had also explained of how Ginny had taken an extreme liking to Hobbs and had attempted, however futile it was, to steal the kitten away and both he and Ron had bravely rescued the tortured cat from being dressed up like a doll ("I was not!" came the cry from the staircase).

Both men listened without interruption and when Harry had finished, he felt very breathless indeed.

"Did you behave for Mrs. Weasley?" Remus had asked in a hoarse voice when Harry was all said and done.

Before Harry could answer, Mrs. Weasley came over, tutting and fussing as she placed plates on the table. "Oh, Harry dear was an angel," she practically cooed, making Harry look scandalized.

"I wish mum loved us as much as him!" Ron grouched. "She didn't even get mad when he blew up the lamps in our living room!"

Harry visibly wilted under this announcement and Ron immediately looked ashamed.

"It was an accident, dearie," Molly admonished, rapping Ron on the head with her wooden spoon.

"I was frustrated," Harry muttered under Sirius' and Remus' questioning gazes. "I really didn't mean to."

"Of course you didn't." Mrs. Weasley reassured.

"It was pretty wicked," Ron admitted, his countenance brightening. "I wish I could do that!" the boy then took on a look of extreme concentration, eyeing his glass of juice, willing it to explode.

"Ronald!" Molly rapped her son again on the head.

"Mum!" Ron cried in embarrassment.

"Well, stop trying to make things explode!" She scolded. "Come now, Harry dear, and sit."

Harry took a seat by Remus just as the twins came tromping in, laughing loudly.

"I didn't know you were coming this early," Harry said to Remus who smiled tiredly.

"It was my idea, actually," Remus said. "I felt up to it and your godfather more than willingly agreed."

Sirius winked.

They ate and talked and laughed. Fred and George played tug of war with a link of sausages and Ron was excitedly telling Harry all about the strategies of Quidditch which Harry listened to with rapt attention though he didn't understand most of what his new friend was saying. Percy was speaking to particularly no one, puffing out his chest to show the prefect badge he was wearing.

Sometime during the course of the meal, Harry felt himself drift as he thought, studying his guardian who had barely touched his plate and looked as though all he wanted to do was sleep. Why had he come, then? Harry wondered bemusedly. Was he even really a werewolf? Harry wasn't sure. Though the facts that he had accumulated all added up to the conclusion, Harry had a hard time believing it. He took a bit of eggs then stared at his fork, suddenly thinking. He glanced back over at Remus and noticed that the man wasn't paying him any attention.

He wondered…carefully, quietly, he touched the very end of his fork to Remus' arm.

Remus jumped in surprise, not expecting to be touched and Harry immediately withdrew. "Harry, what on earth…?"

Sirius spluttered, choked, gasped, then sprayed his morning pumpkin juice over the occupants of the table before throwing his head back and roaring with uncontrollable laughter. "Oh god..." he gasped, pounding his fist on the dining room table. "Oh please Moony…!...That was just-just- _priceless!_"

Remus stared waxen at Harry for a moment who had the grace to look somewhat ashamed. Then a brief smile broke across the man's face and he leaned close to Harry to whisper in his ear.

"That's only a myth, Harry. And besides, the fork is metal, not silver."

Harry blushed furiously, clenching his fork and determinedly staring at his plate.

"Don't mind Sirius," Remus said to the rest of the table. "He forgot to take his potions this morning."

It took a while before Sirius had fully calmed down. It seemed that whenever he looked at Harry, he broke into another fit of laughter, leaving the Weasley's looking very confused at what had transpired.

After the meal was said and done, Remus pulled Harry inside the kitchen and pulled out a large white bottle.

"What's that?" Harry asked nervously.

"_Dilatin_." Remus answered. "Madame Pomphrey sent it to me this morning. It's for counter-acting your epilepsy."

Harry eyed the pill that Remus had dug out for him. "Is that why you came this early?" Harry asked uneasily. "To give me medicine that probably won't work in the first place?"

Remus sighed and Harry noticed that he had deep shadows under his eyes and several cuts on his neck. "Yes, I wanted to give you the medicine…but I also wanted to see how you were doing. It felt weird waking up this morning and not having you there."

Harry gave his guardian a small smile, feeling slightly better.

"Are you going to watch me learn to fly a broom?" Harry asked, not bothering to conceal his excitement.

Remus suddenly looked apprehensive. "Er…yes Harry. Just be careful, okay?"

Harry gave the man a weird looking, wondering why he was suddenly acting like that. "Sure, Remus."

Harry swallowed the pill with a glass of water then barely took a next breath before he was sprinting to meet Ron, the twins, and Ginny outside.

When Ron saw Harry step outside he hurried over and handed Harry a small red box. It looked worn and the paint on it was chipping away. Harry eyed the box suspiciously. "What's this?"

"This is yours," answered Ron rather evasively. Harry narrowed his eyes at the red head. "Go on, open it!"

Harry didn't want to but everyone was watching him and obviously waiting on him to move. So he slowly eased the box open, bracing himself for some sort of horrible little creature to jump out.

A small hiss of air and suddenly a golden glint shot into the air. Harry, out of pure instinct, snatched the thing out of the air with lightning reflexes. When he looked into his palm, he found that a tiny golden ball with white wings was fluttering hopelessly against his fingers.

"Wicked," Ron breathed in awe next to him.

Harry looked up to see the Weasley children and his guardians staring at him in variations of surprise and shock. "What?"

Ron looked as though he were to faint. "It was meant to be," the boy grinned. "That's the snitch you just caught. That's what you're supposed to chase around."

Feeling pleased with himself, Harry released the snitch and let it dart away. He lifted the broom up and, with a fluttery nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach; he waited for Ron to tell him what to do.

After a series of instructions, Harry had mounted his broom, his excitement building to the point he was nearly squirming like a hyper toddler.

"Just kick off and hover for a moment, Harry," Sirius had said, looking somewhat unsure. "You know, just to see if you know what you're doi—"

Harry was airborne, shooting for the sky like a homesick angel, leaving the rest in a rush of dust and grass. With a wild whoop of exhilaration, Harry did several loops, laughing as he did so. Pulling out of a sharp dive, he flew higher wondering if he could touch the sun, for that in that moment, Harry felt as though he could do anything even if it meant dancing with the stars or landing on the moon.

He knew he could do it.

It was like second nature for Harry—as though he had been born to fly a broom, as if this very instinct ran through his veins with his blood. As Harry flew, with the wind playfully pulling at his hair and clothes and the sun's golden rays kissing him with lips of warmth, Harry felt all his troubles, his anxiety, and his fear slip from his very soul like sand through his fingers, swept away with the wind like mere, harmless vapors.

And he knew, he knew right then and there that this was where he was supposed to be.

When Harry landed, he stumbled in the tall grass and Sirius quickly steadied him. "That-that was brilliant!" Harry exclaimed breathlessly, a grin lighting up his entire face. "Did you see that? Did you see what I did?"

Sirius laughed at Harry's expression. "You were amazing, kiddo. Just like your old dad."

"Really?" Harry whirled around to look at Remus' strained smile. "Was I really?"

"Yes," Remus said softly. "Though, I have to admit…it was rather frightening to watch."

Harry laughed and the sound startled both his guardians. Harry didn't notice the men exchange happy glances over his head, he was too absorbed in what Ron was telling him about joining the Quidditch team for Gryffindor. Ginny had to shake her brother's arm to halt him so that the children could engage in Harry's first match ever.

Harry kicked up into the air, feeling the rush of air against his face and the sun beating down on him. Yes, his mind whispered to him, this is where he was meant to be.

****_Remus_

It had been several hours since the children had started playing Quidditch. Remus smiled to himself as he let the patched blue curtains fall back into place.

"More tea, Remus dear?" Molly asked, lifting a fresh pot of tea up off the stove.

"Yes please," Remus took the china cup up from the table once the woman had topped him off and took a sip of the bittersweet liquid. "Sirius, pass the sugar." Remus gestured towards the dish with dancing unicorns around the rim.

Sirius smirked and flicked his wand. Several sugar cubes hopped out of the dish and popped along the wooden table—only one of them actually landed in the cup of tea and the hot fluid splashed out and burned the top of Remus' hand.

"Sirius!" Remus snapped. "Will you ever grow up?"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up too high, Moony." Sirius said as he stretched his arms towards the ceiling, arching his back as he did so.

Remus grumped a few choice swear words under his breath and plucked three more sugar cubes off the table and carefully dropped them into his tea. He glared at the animagus as he stirred his drink.

"You're just too cute, Remy," Sirius mockingly cooed.

Arthur chuckled as he entered the kitchen; he took a seat beside Remus and poured himself some tea. "Have you two always been like this?"

"No, worse," Sirius answered. "We had James back then."

All three men laughed quietly in good humor.

The sound of distant shrieks of laughter created an earthly sort of music in the kitchen and Remus felt content to just listen.

"So," Arthur spoke conversationally. "How is Harry adjusting to living with you two?"

"Slow but sure," Remus murmured with a sigh. "It is hard at times—Harry had been exposed to so many years of rejection and abuse that sometimes, when I look at him, I wonder if he will ever fully recover. Sometimes, when I try to talk to him I wonder if I am being too pushy or I wonder if he sees me as a nag instead of someone who is trying to help."

Arthur studied the werewolf, looking as though he were in deep thought. "I see the way Harry looks at you two and I can see the difference from the first time I met him to now and I can see what you have done for him. There is no doubt of Harry's love and trust for you. I've been a father for many years and I know—I don't know how I know…I just do."

Remus leaned forward, feeling as though someone had taken a bit of the heaviness that had been settling itself on his heart. He opened his mouth to speak when he froze, listening hard.

"Do you hear that?" he whispered.

For a moment, the other two men were quiet.

"Hear what?" Sirius asked. Remus' sharp eyes darted to the window as he stood. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly."

Arthur and Sirius stood as well, concern both flashing across their faces.

It was then that Remus experienced a rather uncomfortable warmth against his chest. He tried to ignore it at first but the warmth grew to the point it burned and Remus' hand flew to his chest. His fingers felt his necklace through his shirt.

_Harry!_ His mind suddenly screamed at the same time that Sirius spoke in a rush.

"Remus, the necklace thing!"

The sound of the screen door slamming alerted the three men to the entrance of the children. Harry came walking in, his face rather pale and blank. He was dragging his broom stick along the wood planked floor and it scratched the wood where it trailed. Normally, Remus would've scolded the boy but the burning of the alert necklace against his skin made him lurch forward in panic.

"Remus," Harry said in a distant voice as the man hurried towards him. "I feel funny." Just as soon as Harry finished saying this, he dropped his broom and bent over to vomit his breakfast on Remus' shoes.

The werewolf caught Harry as he slumped, his emerald eyes already lost to the realm of reality.

"He's having a seizure, Sirius," Remus said, fighting back his fear and struggling to remain calm and collective. He laid Harry on his side, away from the pile of sickness. His loosened the boy's collared shirt around his neck, unbuttoning the top five buttons. Sirius was on his knees beside him, whispering gently to Harry as he stroked the boy's face.

"Harry," he murmured. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry's breathing grew raspy and his left arm began to twitch.

"He's stiffening, Sirius," Remus said in worry, pulling back Harry's shirt so that it rested off his shoulders.

"No," Sirius answered. "Look, I think he was just stretching." The man leaned close to the boy's face. "Can you hear me, Harry? Can you talk, buddy?"

Harry's chin jerked and he began to blink rapidly, making an odd clicking noise with his tongue and lips.

"Should we call for help?" Arthur asked from his position by the table. Beside him, the Weasley children stood, watching silently. Mrs. Weasley stood the closest, looking frightened.

"No." Remus answered, gently rubbing a cloth over Harry's face to clean away the vomit. "Harry? You're doing good, buddy. It's okay, cub."

He rubbed Harry's back as the boy's twitching grew increasingly frequent and forceful. He made a choking noise from the back of his throat and a yellow slug of bile appeared.

"It's okay, buddy," Remus soothed, s_corgifying_ the mess.

"Pomphrey said that the vomiting was normal." Sirius said, sounding as though he was trying to assure himself more than anyone else. "We just gotta make sure he doesn't choke on it."

"I'm more worried about the breathing," Remus muttered back, placing his wand on the floor before smoothing Harry's hair back from his face. His charge's breathing was raspy and fast through his nose.

"He's fine," Sirius reassured. He rubbed Harry's bare shoulder which jerked against his palm. "It's almost done, Harry. You're doing so good."

The seizure didn't last very long and Harry's twitching soon grew to a minimum.

"It's only his thumb now, look," Sirius pointed to Harry's hand.

"Harry?" Remus tilted his face so that he could look into Harry's unblinking eyes. "Can you hear me? Can you talk now?"

Harry didn't answer back, his shoulder twitching once.

"Hey, kiddo, can you squeeze my hand?" Sirius asked after a couple more minutes.

Remus was relieved when he saw Harry blink once and for the first time in several minutes, he focused his eyes on Remus.

"Harry? Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry blinked again, his blank expression changing into one of mild fear. His eyes darted in disorientation and a soft moan escaped from his lips.

"You're okay, pup, it's over now," Sirius quickly mollified.

"Hurt." Harry croaked in a voice that was barely there and both men had to lean forward to hear him. "Hurt."

"We'll get you some pain potion," and Remus looked pointedly at Molly who turned hurriedly towards the cupboards.

Sirius gently, carefully turned Harry onto his back and both he and Remus propped the boy up as they administered the pain reliever.

Harry closed his eyes, obviously exhausted. "Tired." He whispered.

"Okay." Remus answered softly. "Pick him up Sirius and let him rest on the couch. Merlin knows he needs it."

****_Harry_

Harry took his time in waking up. He felt extremely comfortable and warm lying under the covers , his body refusing to move. He could feel the soreness settled into his muscles but the pain was kept as bay as he kept himself still.

He knew that he had had a seizure but he couldn't remember any of it and whether or not it had been a bad one or not. In fact, he could barely remember much of the Quidditch match he had been playing with the Weasleys. This somewhat frightened him but he was used to the memory loss by now.

It was a while before he decided to open his eyes and gather his whereabouts. He realized he was in some sort of living room and it was nearing nightfall but the light in the corner and the flames of the fireplace kept the room comfortably lit. He looked around slowly and saw with a small amount of surprise that Scabbers, Ron's rat, was sitting on the back of the couch that Harry was lying on, eyeing him with its beady black eyes.

Harry had slowly reached up to pet it when a shout of terror froze him in his tracks.

"_Don't touch that rat, Harry_!"

One moment, Harry was looking at both his guardians in a mixture of fear and confusion; they had their wands out but looked afraid to move from their spot by the fireplace. The next moment, unfamiliar hands jerked back his head with a handful of his hair and the sharp blade of a knife was pressed to his throat. The fear and confusion immediately exploded into violent panic and Harry gave a strangled cry.

"No-nobody move!" The small, ugly, mouse-faced man demanded in a high voice. "Or I'll kill him!"


	10. Red is the Color of Blood

_Who is more foolish: the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?_

_*hp*_

_A child's sob in the silence curses more deeper than a strong man in his wrath._

_*hp*_

_I am not a child now_

_I can take care of myself_

_I mustn't let them down, now_

_Mustn't let them see me cry_

_I'm fine, I'm fine_

The next moments, Sirius knew, he would forever remember and he prayed that the gut-wrenching feeling that seared his gut would never be relived again. It felt as though a huge, cold fist had reached into his chest and clenched his heart in an icy grip. Sirius was shaking. He forced himself not to move, he forced himself to swallow back the terror as he watched his charge held mercilessly under knife point—he kept his eyes trained on the blade, on the tiny line of blood that slithered its way down Harry's neck and around his exposed collar bone.

He lurched forward but was roughly stopped by Remus' hand which had fisted a handful of his shirt and jerked him back. Pettigrew tightened his hold on Harry who whimpered pitifully, his eyes, more priceless than any jewels that Sirius had ever seen, silently pleaded for help.

"DON'T MOVE!" Peter Pettigrew yelled out, his voice shaking.

The Weasley's had heard the commotion and the thundering of footsteps from overhead seemed to blare in Sirius' ears. He was more aware then he had ever been in his life. He could feel a single bead of sweat slip behind his ear and Remus' hand holding him back from doing anything irrational—the werewolf was shaking. Sirius counted the breaths it took before he heard Molly's gasp from behind him and the cries of the children as they froze on the staircase. Twenty. Exactly twenty breaths. Sirius then counted the little red heads. One, two, three, and four…no five, he could see tiny Ginny being pushed discreetly back up the stairs by Percy who had also grabbed the back of Ron's shirt, attempting to pull him back.

"Back up stairs, children," Remus beside him ordered softly but firmly.

"QUIET!" Peter yelled, sounding more panicked than anything else. "I just want the boy and no one else will get hurt."

"You're pathetic," Sirius hissed, clenching his fists and wanting more than anything to reach down and grab his wand that he had dropped onto the ground.

Peter stared at his former friend with wide eyes, his pale face thin and dirty. "Maybe," he answered. "But I'm not the one who ended up in Azkaban."

"Peter," Remus' voice was steady and calm despite the look of panic on his face. "You don't want to do this. He's just a child…"

"Shut-up, werewolf!" the rat-faced man demanded in a shrill voice. "I do want to do this—imagine the reward I'll receive from the Dark Lord when he hears what I've done! What _I've _done!"

"Peter, think of Lily and James—we were all friends—"

"I was never your friend!" Peter practically sobbed, dragging Harry back several steps away from the two other men. Sirius saw the line of blood on Harry's neck grow thicker. "I was just the extra, the one who couldn't do anything good—the one on the outside! You were nice to me because of pity!"

"That's not true!" Sirius shot back, his voice escalating. "We were your friends! And you betrayed Lily and James who were nothing but kind to you from the very beginning!"

Guilt and fear passed over Peter's pale face and he looked down at Harry briefly before jerking his eyes back to Sirius and Remus. "What would you have done, Sirius?" he begged. "I had no choice! You-know-who was very persuasive—it was the winning side! His power and his weapons…I couldn't resist him! He gave me protection! He would've killed me if I hadn't obeyed! What would you have done?"

"_I would have died_!" Sirius bellowed so loud that it hurt his throat. "I would've let Voldemort kill me rather than betray Lily and James!"

An ominous silence followed this exchange. It stretched between the occupants of the room, lanced with tension so thick that the very foundations of the house seemed to vibrate with it. Hobbs tottered into the space between the three men, oblivious to the happenings. The tiny kitten meowed before rubbing against Harry's leg.

Peter savagely kicked it away and the little body of the baby cat was lifted off the floor and sent flying across the room, smacking into the wall where it laid motionless on the wood planked floor.

Harry's broken sob cut through the silence and Sirius felt as though his heart had been ripped out from his chest, savagely stomped on then stuffed back into his ribcage where it throbbed and pulsed in painful waves.

"Peter," he whispered, his voice shaking. "_Please_…"

Peter Pettigrew flinched. "I'm-I'm sorry. I really am. I just-just _have _to do this…"

"NOW!" Remus screamed, leaping into action.

The world exploded into chaos. Two stunning spells came from the staircase, both missing Peter and exploding several pictures of the walls. Arthur had choked Peter from behind, making the man bend backwards rather painfully and now both were wrestling with the knife. Harry crumbled to the floor like a trampled flower where he lay shaking in obvious shock. Sirius jumped over the couch, Remus blasted it away and both men joined the fray and they grappled with Peter who was surprisingly strong and slippery. Remus went down after a nasty blow to the head and lay stunned. Peter then twisted and drove the knife into Arthur's thigh and the man yelled out in pain. Swiping the knife in Sirius' direction, who had to duck to avoid losing his nose, Peter transformed into a rat and scurried across the floor and Ron made a dive for it.

"No Ronald!" Molly cried in terror.

The boy had caught the vermin which suddenly wasn't a vermin anymore but a full grown man. Peter ripped Ron's wand away from him and blasted the child away.

Molly Weasley was screaming, Arthur was bellowing and Sirius fumbled for his wand where it had rolled under the couch. A cutting hex from Peter caught his shoulder and blood spurted from the fresh wound. He grabbed his arm in shock, watching as his own blood made a rather odd pattern on the wall beside him.

Harry had recovered and was now rolling to a sitting position and green met blue—no, Harry wasn't looking _at_ him, but beyond him—Sirius turned and found himself under wand point.

"I'm sorry Sirius!" the man sobbed, looking genuinely guilty. "Just give me the Potter boy and I'll let you live."

"Over my dead body!" Sirius snarled fearlessly, his chest heaving and his shirt sticky with his blood from his shoulder.

Peter's lip trembled. "Fine." Sirius refused to close his eyes. "_Avada Ka—"_

"_NO_!" the cry made Sirius and Peter both jerk.

A screaming explosion of black and gold shot over Sirius' head and enveloped Peter Pettigrew like a raging fire. The man screamed in agony, dropping Ron's wand, and his body was violently thrown backwards where it connected with the wall with a sickening crunching of bone.

Sirius shot up and lurched towards Peter's fallen form, Ron's wand in his hand, ready to bind the man in ropes. His muscles were quivering from the fact that he had been milliseconds from death but he focused on getting his once friend contained so he wouldn't touch his godson. He stopped dead.

Peter Pettigrew's face was a frozen expression of blatant terror. Blood so thick it was nearly black oozed from his mouth, eyes, nose, and ears. His skin beneath the gore was a deathly gray and the veins beneath were black and gold as they strained against the membrane as though threatening to explode forth.

Sirius felt his breath leave him and the wand he had been holding slipped from his fingers to the floor. He spun around, his heart leaping to his throat when he saw Harry standing, his wand still erect and spitting black and gold sparks. His once emerald eyes were black as pitch and he was staring at where Peter had been standing, eyes wide, chest heaving.

"H-Harry?" Sirius whispered, his heart pounding, praying to all those deemed deity that Harry wasn't completely lost.

Harry broke his unblinking gaze and turned to look at his godfather. The child was trembling and his eyes began to fade back to their startling emerald. Slowly he lowered his wand. "Sirius…?" Harry's voice was scared.

For once in his life, Sirius didn't know what to say.

****_Dumbledore***_

Albus Dumbledore studied the little creature that sat before him, its eyes as blank, as cold, as lifeless as jewels. Its fists were clenched but, otherwise, there was no other visible emotion.

"Harry, is there something you would like to talk about?" Albus asked; he steepled his fingers and gazed at the child over his half-moon spectacles.

Harry gave no answer. He didn't even blink. The child was in shock.

Albus allowed himself to think about the scene he had walked into at the Weasley's house. Peter Pettigrew's state was alarming and Albus knew of no spell that could implode a human's veins in such a manner. What Harry had performed had been pure, unaltered magic and both Sirius and Arthur had told the headmaster that the child had uttered no spell. They still had to think of a way to explain Pettigrew's state before releasing him to the ministry. What a right pickle it would be for the Prophet to announce that the Boy-Who-Lived was suddenly a cold blooded murder at thirteen and was well on his way to become the next Dark Lord.

"Where're my guardians?" The sudden demand startled Albus from his thoughts. He mused at Harry. It was the first time the boy had spoke for more than an hour.

"They will be along, my dear child—"

"I'm not a child."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Please accept my apologies, my dear boy, for when you are someone at my age, everyone nearly a century younger than you appears as a child."

Another silence. Harry stared hard at the floor, refusing to look up and meet Albus' gaze. After a good ten minutes, Fawkes gave a gentle trill and Harry slowly raised his head to the sound. His eyes were welled with tears, two clear pools of water with glittering emeralds hidden in their depths.

"Am I going to be locked up?" Harry asked, his voice fearful and child-like.

Albus looked at that tiny thing with sympathy. "No, Harry—I wouldn't allow that. What you did earlier was accidental and in defe—"

"It wasn't an accident. I wanted him to die." Harry's eyes grew dark and a tear darted down his cheek and clung to his chin. "He was going to kill Sirius."

"Yes he was."

"I didn't think, sir. I just got so mad and scared—I wanted that man to hurt like he had hurt me. He was going to take something that belonged to me. I didn't want Sirius to die." Harry's voice broke and he sniffled. "I'm just like Voldemort, aren't I?"

Albus Dumbledore was shocked at this sudden revelation. He leaned forward , resting his elbows on his desk and he stared at Harry with intensity. "Lord Voldemort killed for power, Harry. He killed innocent people just because they were different, or just because he could. You, Harry, were protecting a father-figure from murder by an evil man who had taken so much from you in the first place."

"It was him who betrayed my parents." Harry stated blatantly.

"Yes it was."

"And I killed him."

"Yes you did."

Albus watched the boy internally wrestle with himself. It was painful to watch someone so young suffer something that grown men had never even tasted.

"I don't want to kill." Harry finally came to his conclusion, his jaw set. "I don't want to kill people like Voldemort did."

"That is a wise decision Harry."

Harry looked up again, his eyes pleading. "My aunt and uncle—they always told me I was a freak—they're right…even here I'm different…I do things that scare people—I can see the way Remus and Sirius look at me. Two days ago, I heard them talking about me—about how I might be the next dark lord because of my m-_magic_."

"It is our choices that determine who we are, Harry, far more than our abilities." Albus told the child gently. "Some of us are given gifts that set us apart and we don't know why."

"But I don't _want_ to be set apart, I just want to be _normal_."

Albus smiled at Harry in a comforting sort of way. He realized how different Harry was from his father despite his uncanny appearance. Except those eyes. Albus rose from his chair behind his great desk and went to stroke Fawkes' red and gold plumage. "What we want and what we have are two very different things, Harry, wouldn't you say?"

Harry didn't give an answer.

"The time will come Harry when you will understand why you have been given these gifts."

The look on Harry's face said that he didn't want to understand later but now and Albus couldn't help but chuckle. "Come here, my dear boy, and meet Fawkes."

Looking somewhat hesitant, Harry obeyed. He gently touched the bird then looked to the Headmaster for assurance.

The elderly man smiled warmly. "Fawkes is a Phoenix—magnificent creatures really. They can carry burdens many times their weight and their tears contain healing powers."

As Harry stroked the bird's soft feathers, Albus could tell the boy was still struggling with thoughts.

"What is on your mind, Harry?"

Harry gave him a startled look.

"Eyes show more then we humans would tend to believe."

Looking confused at the statement, Harry ducked his head, lowering his hand from Fawkes. "I wanted to know…you know…about Voldemort?" Harry cringed and waited for admonishment.

The headmaster surprised him. "And what is it you would like to know, Harry?"

"I wanted to know—why—_why—_did he try to kill me? Why did he kill my parents?"

"Voldemort feared any person who threatened his power and your parents were both avid fighters against Voldemort's cause."

"So he killed them." Harry stated flatly.

"Yes. He knew they stood in his way to you."

"But why me? I was just a baby!"

"Yes, you were just a baby, but do you realize that Voldemort was unable to kill you? A mere baby had stopped him in his tracks—perhaps the dark lord had right to fear."

"But why?" Harry asked earnestly. "Why couldn't he kill me?"

Albus turned fully to study the boy standing before him and Harry's eyes met his with intensity. The emotions that roiled in the depths of those green eyes were nearly overwhelming to watch. Albus felt an odd sort of sorrow in his chest and he placed a hand on Harry's thin shoulder, feeling pained with Harry gave a small flinch. "Love is a powerful magic, Harry. Much more powerful than anything that Voldemort could conjure that day." Albus lifted his hand slowly to rest on Harry's head full of unruly hair. "What Lily Potter did that night was sacrifice her very life to protect you—the greatest love is that of a human to lay down their life for someone else—your mother did just that and by doing so, she placed within you a magic more sacred, more ancient, more _powerful,_ than any other magic that exists. It was her sacrifice that made the killing curse rebound off you. Love such as that is bound to leave a mark."

Harry hesitantly raised his hand to his scar but Albus stopped him. "Ah, no dear boy; a mark like this goes so much deeper. It's in your very blood, giving you protection."

Harry furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes in deep thought. "Voldemort…he didn't really go away that night, did he?"

"Excellent perception Harry. No, I regret to say that he did not truly die."

"But how? How is he still alive?"

Albus sighed. "Voldemort had immersed himself so deeply into the darkest of magic that he lost himself and was no longer fully man. The thirst for power can cause men to do unspeakable things to get to the very top. No, I believe that Voldemort is a weakened spirit, biding his time as he searches ways to gain new strength."

A strange look past over the boy's face and Albus knew what he was going to ask moments before he did.

"Professor, you don't think…well…will Voldemort-will he come after me again?" Harry's face looked so young, so innocent and Albus hesitated then looked up at the sound of a knock. The elderly man saw Sirius Black and Remus Lupin walk in the office. Both of the young men looked worn and stressed.

Harry turned and gave a start at the appearance of his guardians.

Albus saw the boy's eyes cloud with panic, indecision, and shame. Harry had frozen and all but his chest moved, heaving with each great gasps. He face was white. It pained Albus to see Harry in such a state. He placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry jerked to look at the Headmaster and Harry's eyes pleaded him for help.

"Harry," Sirius spoke before Albus could. Harry looked back at his godfather and the boy looked as though he was bracing himself for coming rejection. "Are you all right, kiddo?"

Harry's face filled with confusion. He didn't move. He didn't speak. Albus looked to see Sirius' face twisted with several emotions. Remus was looking to Albus and Albus shook his head minutely.

"Let's go home, Harry." Sirius gestured for his godson and that must have been the button to pull things into motion, for Harry ripped away from Albus and ran for his godfather's sheltering arms. Albus felt warm as he saw the man hold the boy tight. Remus had placed a gentle hand on Harry's back and the three of them, each broken and mistreated by an unforgiving world, created something whole and safe. Something beautiful.

***_Harry_

When Harry stepped from the fireplace of the sitting room, a wave of calm swept through him like a tidal wave and he gratefully let it pull him under where he rested in its peaceful depths. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and he didn't flinch. He looked up into the pale blue eyes of his godfather. Neither smiled but both the man's eyes gave Harry the feeling of something that he thought he'd never feel before.

Remus joined them a second later and in his hands he held tiny Hobbs. Harry felt relief and happiness light his face up and he gently took the little creature from Remus and cuddled it close to his chest. The kitten purred and rubbed it's head against Harry, letting him know that the cat knew its master.

Harry tried to say thank you but the words seemed to be caught in his throat. Remus seemed to understand though and he ruffled Harry's untidy hair affectionately.

"We need to talk, Harry," the man said and immediately Harry dropped his eyes to the floor, a throb of fear making his heart beat fast.

Sirius dropped onto the couch and his whole body seemed to deflate into the cushions; he ran a hand through his black hair and for once, his hair wasn't nice and neat but stuck up haphazardly. There were deep circles under his eyes from stress and lack of sleep. Dried blood stained the shoulder of his left sleeve. Remus didn't look much better. A livid bruise darkened the skin of his forehead and his lip was split.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Harry came to a sharp realization: _he_ had done this. This was _his_ fault. And they were going to get back at him. What had happened in the Headmaster's office was only for show. They didn't want Dumbledore to be suspicious.

"I'm sorry—I'll do _anything,_" Harry begged, holding so tight to Hobbs that the cat began to squirm in protest. "Just-just don't send me back to the Dursley's—I'll do whatever you want: I'll do all the chores and cook and clean and live outside—I'll—"

"Harry!" Remus cut him off abruptly and Harry quickly ducked out of reach from the man's hand. Hobbs jumped from his hands and streaked out of the room. Harry suddenly felt oddly abandoned. When Sirius stood and both men came towards him, Harry yanked his wand from his pocket and jabbed it in their direction. His guardians froze, their faces shocked, their eyes fixed on the black and gold sparks sputtering from the tip of Harry's quivering wand.

"Now Harry—" Sirius began, raising his hands slowly in caution. Harry turned the wand on his godfather.

"Stay away!" Harry demanded in a voice that betrayed his terror. "I'll do it, you know! I'll hurt you! I won't be sent back to the Dursley's! I won't! I WON'T!"

"Harry—"

"I'll run away! And you'll never find me! _Never!_"

"Harry!" Sirius shouted so loud that Harry jerked back fast and he cracked his head on the brick of the fireplace.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Harry's wand was ripped from his hand and Remus caught it deftly. Harry gave a cry of surprise and anger. Instinctively, he summoned Sirius' wand with his right hand; his godfather shouted and tried to snag it back. Harry grabbed it out of the air and whipped it at Remus, a white hot ball of energy exploding from its tip. The man threw himself to the ground and the magic crashed into the wall, blasting a hole through in.

All three occupants stared through the hole and into the dining room. Remus shakily sat up.

Shock and exhaustion from exertion overwhelmed Harry. He dropped the stolen wall and staggered before slowly sinking to his knees, then to his elbows, then finally his whole body settled on the floor. Beneath him the wooden planks rocked and swayed like the deck of a ship and the wall opposite him lurched and spun sickeningly. Waves of yellow crossed his vision followed by white than as blackness began to pull him under, he saw someone lowering to their knees and a hand rubbed his back in comfort.

And then there was nothing.

*******Story2Tell************

Harry couldn't have been out long for when he opened his eyes, he saw the gaping hole in the wall and his cheek was still pressing against the wooden floor. It was cold and he shivered.

"Harry?" a gentle voice above him spoke and he stiffened.

"Shh, you're okay." The voice soothed. "You just put out a lot of magic and exhausted your body. The feeling will go away soon, though."

Harry blinked fast, trying to clear his vision, and he began to sit up.

"Easy now, go slowly."

Harry raised his head to see Sirius and Remus sitting next to him, watching him with concern.

Guilt made Harry suddenly nauseas. "I-I'm sorry," Harry whispered, blinking fast to hide his tears. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to appear weak and childish. For so many years he had learned to hold back his tears and to grow up and face what he had to face each and every day. He didn't deserve to have the luxuries to be a child. No one had ever taken care of him before and what made him think that he should be taken care of now?

Sirius chucked Harry under the chin, forcing the boy to look up from behind black wisps of hair. "You're forgiven." He said, his face very serious. Harry tried to look away but Sirius wouldn't allow him. "Now, what I really want to know is why in the name of Merlin and god's green earth did you get the notion into your head that we were going to send you back to your relatives?"

"I deserve it." Harry blurted. "I'm a murderer! I deserve to be punished!"

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly. "We are not, and let me repeat, we are _not_ going to send you back to that hell hole."

Harry's eyes widened, fear making his heart flutter madly. "You're sending me off to jail then, aren't you? But Dumbledore said I wouldn't be locked up!"

"Harry!" Sirius stopped him firmly. "We are not sending you to jail or to your relatives. What you did, you did to save my life. You saved my _life,_ Harry. Granted, killing the man probably wasn't the best route to take, but you haven't been taught to control your magic and you stopped a man from killing me and perhaps more people. You are _not_ a murderer. Remus and I will not allow you to be. We would break both your legs before it came to that."

Harry eyes widened. "Er…you would?"

Remus rolled his eyes but Sirius nodded seriously. Harry mentally took a note not to become a murderer.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He looked down into his lap, fiddling with his shirt hem.

He heard a sigh and Remus suddenly put his arm about his shoulders. "What Sirius is trying to say in his rather bohemian way, is that he is very grateful that you saved his life, but next time, try to reign yourself in a little. You are a murderer—murderers are people who kill out of cold blood, who take away lives from innocent people and destroy whole families. I highly doubt it will ever come to that. However, Professor Dumbledore has talked to us in great length and we have come to the agreement—"

Sirius let out a low growl and Remus looked at him sharply. He continued: "We have come to the agreement that Professor Snape will do some one-on-one teaching for your dueling skills and your ability to control the amount of magic that you put forth. He will also tutor you in potions for neither Sirius nor I have quite the knack for the art."

Sirius was glaring at particularly nothing and Harry suddenly felt worried. "Snape?" he repeated in a hollow voice.

"Don't worry. He will not bring harm to you in any fashion."

Sirius snorted and grumpily crossed his arms. "Stupid idea." He muttered. "Greasy git."

Harry looked at his godfather in a scrutinizing way.

"Ignore him, Harry. Some old school rivalry never dies." Remus said with another scolding look at the animagus.

Harry, not wanting to see his godfather look so angry, tentatively touched the man's arm and looked at him hopefully. For a few seconds, Sirius studied Harry then he suddenly relaxed, pulling Harry close. He held his godson's head against his chest and Harry could hear his godfather's heart beat. It was rather soothing.

"Forget about Peter, Harry," Sirius said. "That man had it coming to him anyways. _The traitor_."

Harry knew it would be a long time before he would even come close to forgetting something as horrible as killing another life, no matter how terrible a person he was, but he didn't want to say so aloud, knowing it would worry his guardians and he didn't want to become anymore a burden then he already was. Leaning against his godfather's chest with Remus rubbing his back, Harry inwardly smiled. He had never felt so contented in his life. He toyed with the third button of Sirius' shirt, wondering if he should ruin the sudden good mood and spoke anyway:

"Professor Dumbledore told me some about Voldemort," he said and he felt his godfather still.

"Really?" Sirius asked in a rather strained voice. Harry nodded and continued to play with the smooth black button.

"He was a really bad person, wasn't he?" Harry sighed. "Dumbledore said he wanted to kill me and that if he ever came back he might try to kill me again."

For a moment, there was only the sound of breathing. Feeling somewhat disconcerted with the silence, Harry tilted his head back to look at his godfather than at Remus.

Sirius spoke: "Dumbledore said that Voldemort might come back?" he asked.

Harry nodded and lowered his head back down, picking at the tiny threads of Sirius' button.

Sirius seemed to be trying to control some sort of emotion, or maybe many and Harry felt suddenly guilty for bring it up. Finally his godfather said: "Does it scare you?"

Harry thought for a moment then suddenly smiled a half smile as a sudden odd thought came to him. "Well, Cruella Deville doesn't." he stated wryly.

"What?" Sirius sounded confused and Harry pulled back and looked at both his guardians.

"You've never heard of Cruella Deville? You know, _A Hundred and One Dalmations?"_

This didn't seem to register to either men and Harry felt a flush of embarrassment. Awkwardly he bobbed his head a bit and half sung, half spoke in an awkward sort of tune: "_Cruella Deville, Cruella Deville, if she doesn't scare you, no evil thing will…to see her is to catch a sudden chill…_" Harry waited.

No response.

Harry's face grew to a deeper red and his rolled his eyes to the ceiling and drew in a deep breath before tentatively continuing the song. "_The curl of her lips, the ice of her stare, all innocent children had better beware…she's like a spider waiting for the kill…Cruella Deville…_"

His guardians looked as though they were questioning his sanity and Harry suddenly felt foolish. "It's a movie about a bunch of puppies and a mean, old woman who wants to kill them all and use their fur for clothes." Harry looked at them in shock. "Haven't you _ever _watched a movie before?"

Both men shook their heads.

"Oh," Harry frowned. "Well, I like movies so I'm gonna have to save some money so I can buy a telly and we can buy all sorts of movies and eat popcorn and drink fizzy drinks and have a bunch of candy! My Aunt and Uncle never really let me watch anything because they said a 'nasty, disobedient boy' like me didn't 'deserve such things' but I used to sneak sometimes."

"You're not nasty or disobedient, Harry," Remus spoke firmly. "Next time we go to London, you'll have to show us what to get and we'll buy it for you."

Harry felt uneasy. "I don't know…tellys can cost a lot of money…"

Sirius waved his hand at that. "I got a great big fortune having been the only remaining Black. I also got a load from the Ministry a while back and they're still sending me checks—enough for Remus and I to live without working."

Harry felt his eyes widening. "Cool," he stated, impressed. Sirius chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair. Harry pulled away with a glare and attempted to smooth down his hair with his hands.

"It's always stands straight up in the back—you've made it worse!" Harry said moodily and though he glared both his guardians laughed.

"James used to say that whenever I messed up his hair." Sirius said. He looked at Remus. "You remember that?"

Remus nodded with a smile. "I never understood though—he hated it but he used to mess up his own hair all the time."

"James confused everyone—he was always on a different level then everybody else."

Harry watched this minor exchange and felt that same longing in the pit of his stomach that he had felt in the gardens. It must have showed on his face for Remus brushed his hair back from his forehead and gently ran a thumb along his cheek.

"I know it's hard, Harry," the werewolf whispered.

Harry nodded fast. "I don't know them…I don't remember them—but-but I miss them and it makes me sick to my stomach."

Remus nodded and exchanged glances with Sirius.

"You know, kiddo, I think there are pictures up in the attic that I can search for. I know Lily kept a box of a bunch." Sirius placed a hand on Harry's back. "When I find them, I'll let you have them, okay?"

Harry nodded again, a small smile. Sirius leaned back and stretched his long arms to the ceiling. "Now, if you're sure that you are finished trying to blast us away, I think I'm going to take a shower and then eat a nice, huge bowl of that left over stew from Mrs. Weasleys."

"You need a shower too, Harry." Remus said, helping Harry to his feet. "Be down in thirty minutes, understood?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. He jogged up the staircase, his hand sliding around the banister. Entering his room, he scooped Pipp from his little pen and dropped the puff onto his bed, scratching its velvet purple fur before pulling off his dirty tee-shirt and tossing into the basket for laundry.

A sharp intake of breath made him spin around and he saw Remus standing in his doorway with an armful of clothes in his hands. "Sorry, I should have knocked," Remus said stepping into his room to deposit the clothes on Harry's mattress. His voice was strained.

"'s'kay," Harry muttered.

Remus patted the pile of clothes rather distantly and glanced at Harry. "You're back is healing nicely."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. So that was why his guardian was acting odd. Self-consciously, Harry backed closer to the wall, attempting to shield the scars that stripped his back.

Remus' eyes were glistening slightly and the man coughed suddenly as though trying to hide some sort of emotion. "I'll just…just let you get to your shower…" he left the room quickly, quietly shutting the door behind him.

After his shower, Harry got dressed and sat on his bed, thinking about this morning which seemed to have happen such a long time ago. Back at the Dursley's, whenever Harry had been overwhelmed with the shots that life had thrown at him, he had snuck out to the Troy park and would spend hours kicking around a soccer ball and he wished he had one now to kick out his frustration. He glanced around his room and lifted a dirty sock up off the floor. He concentrated for a brief second before feeling the sock grow and become heavier. A moment later, he dropped a soccer ball onto the ground and nudged the ball with his foot, grinning to himself.

***_Remus***_

Remus sighed tiredly and shut the cabinet harder then he should've. He poured two glasses of fire whiskey and a glass of milk for Harry. He flicked his wand at the warming stew and the wooden spoon stirred it slowly, keeping it from sticking to the bottom of the pan.

The werewolf was feeling rather moody. He hadn't slept for nearly two days and the full moon from last night was wearing down his body rather fast. He glanced at the clock up on the wall and made note that he had six hours left until the rise of the moon. Sighing again, he swung open the cabinet door and returned the jug of milk and fire whiskey. Then he reached up on tip toes to reach the butter jar.

Agonizing pain split down his left side and Remus had to grab the counter to keep from collapsing. The pain had been so great that he hadn't even been able to cry out—he could only gasp as he struggled to maintain his breathing. He cursed the lycanthropy for slowing down his body's healing mechanisms and waited for the spasm to pass. When it did, he turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, holding a soccer ball to his chest, his green eyes watching him emotionlessly.

"Remus?" The boy asked in a soft voice.

"I'm fine, Harry," Remus brushed him off quickly. "The full moon won't allow me to heal very fast."

Harry blinked as though he wasn't sure he could believe Remus. Then he nodded and said: "May I go outside for a while?"

"After you eat," Remus answered, shakily grabbing some bowls, doing his best to keep his composer. He scooped some stew quickly.

"I'm not hungry." Said Harry.

Remus slammed down the wooden spoon, breathing deeply, his hands tightening into his fists. _Just be calm,_ he inwardly coached himself. _Don't lose it, don't lose it in front of Harry._

He turned slightly to look at Harry out of the corner of his eye. "Just go then," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Don't tell me you're hungry later."

He closed his eyes as Harry fled and he waited till he heard the screen door slam before flinging the wooden spoon across the room where it splattered beef stew gravy against the wall.

"Whoa, Remus," Sirius said from the door way. "You okay?"

Remus couldn't answer, trembling instead. He took one step, another, another, until he could hunch over the sink and retch up bile, the ragged edge of the counter digging into his palms. When he looked up finally, he caught a glimpse of Harry through the window. The boy was kicking his soccer ball and chasing after it, his hair catching the bright sunlight. Harry was actually smiling. He looked so carefree for once.

"Remus?" Sirius was standing just behind him, sounding concerned. "It's your side, isn't? The full moon is making it worse."

Remus nodded slowly, snatching the towel that his friend had held out for him; he wet it and pressed it to his face, waiting for the nausea to pass. The coolness of the cloth felt comforting against his burning skin. He felt Sirius' hand on his arm, guiding him to sit in a kitchen chair.

"Do you need any potion or something? Or maybe I should get Pomphrey?"

Remus shook his head. "Just knock me out and be done with it," he groaned, removing the towel from his face.

Sirius crinkled his brow, "Don't think that'll work, mate. You'd wake with a splitting headache and I do not want to deal with a werewolf with a splitting headache."

Remus cracked a smile, running the towel across his face once more before moving to stand up.

"Don't move," Sirius stopped him. "I'll get you some more stew and some…tea?"

"I poured us some fire whiskey," Remus said, slumping gratefully back into his seat. "And don't use that spoon I threw, it's dirty now."

Sirius snorted but he pulled a clean spoon from the drawer. "Whatever you want, dear."

Remus stirred the stew in his bowl that Sirius had set in front of him. "Thank you, I think." He hesitated spooning the food into his mouth. "You didn't put anything weird in this did you?"

"Now why would I do that?" Sirius smirked, flicking his own spoon.

Remus flinched as the gravy dotted his face and neck, closing his eyes as he forced himself to reign in his growing temper. He counted to sixty-three before reopening them to glare at the animagus. "Do you want to die?" Remus snarled through gritted teeth.

Sirius only laughed. "Cheers, Moony!" and he tossed back his fire whiskey, nearly draining the glass.

"Cheers," Remus muttered, taking a sip of his own drink. "Cheers."

*****_Sirius(Padfoot)*****_

Padfoot huffed out a sigh and settled his head on his front paws, cocking his ears as he listened to the low, animalistic moans coming from the heaving body across the room. The werewolf had yet to move from the spot where he had transformed; the wolf grunted and whimpered as it laid on its side.

Padfoot scooted himself forward, giving Moony a whimper of concern.

The werewolf slowly raised its head and stared at Padfoot with golden eyes, the black slit of his pupils narrowed in pain. Padfoot gently pawed Moony's leg, letting the werewolf know that he was there for him.

With a low growl, Moony laid his head on the cool stone floor of the basement, his ears flat against his head. Realizing that there would be no frolicking and wrestling tonight, Padfoot pawed at the floor a couple of times before turning in a tight circle to curl himself against Moony, who snuffed gratefully, his tail thumping weakly a few times.

Outside, the moon hung silent and still as it watched the pair, the stars glittering like tear drops and the wind crying as it wondered lost through the empty gardens.

Padfoot felt his eyelids droop and sleep gently stroked him into a lulled slumber where he was chasing a bunny rabbit named Jumper across a field of yellow and pink and white flowers. The sun above was a brilliant yellow orb against the cloudless sky and it seemed to laugh as Padfoot let out a playful howl, splashing through a glittering creek to give chase to the colorful fish beneath the surface. Jumper was laughing because he was so easily distracted but Padfoot didn't care. He like the feel of the water caressing and tickling his fur and the fish seemed to be winking at him and the bubbles that danced through the clear creek was their giggling.

Suddenly, in the distance there came a low cry. Padfoot raised his head, water dripping from his muzzle, his ears cocked at the noise. But Jumper didn't seem to care so why should he? Padfoot let his tongue loll out in a goofy smile and dived for a school of fish that escaped him with bubbly laughter. Again, the cry came again, louder, more distressed and this time it bothered Padfoot. His dog face frowned as he strained to hear where the noise was coming from.

And then Jumper wasn't laughing anymore but glaring and savagely growling at him in a way that no bunny rabbit should be able to do. And the playful fish that he had been prancing with were suddenly making the water boil with their anger and their little fish mouths suddenly had teeth as sharp as a werewolf's as they gnawed on his paws and legs making him yelp…

Padfoot bolted up to find Moony worrying him with his sharp teeth, growling savagely.

A horrible, ear-shattering scream split the colors of his dream into gray-darkness. In a throb of heart-pounding fear, Padfoot was racing for the basement staircase, and he was suddenly Sirius as he burst open the door and ran for all his life's worth for Harry's bedroom. Horrendous visions crossed across his mind's eyes in gory, grotesque images of Harry being brutally tortured and beaten bloody.

Suddenly, the screams were cut off and Sirius cried out as fear bolted down his spine in shocking waves. Bursting through the door, Sirius didn't see a man with a wand, a knife, or any sort of weapon. No dark mark floated out the window and there were no pools of blood glistening black on the floor.

Instead, Harry laid curled up on the floor, rocking, moaning, his hands hiding his face. Vomit splashed the wood right near the edge of the bed and it was obvious Harry was trying to make it to the bathroom before he collapsed.

"Harry! _Harry!_" Sirius grabbed the boy by the shoulders and roughly turned him over, trying to find any noticeable injuries, or any signs of a seizure—but Harry had never screamed before during his last three seizures. "What is it? Where do you hurt?"

Harry dragged his hands down his face, giving him a rather frightening look for a few moments. "M-make it st-st-stop!" Harry gasped out, grabbing Sirius by the front of his shirt before his arched his back and another blood-curdling cry of pain broke from his lips.

"What, Harry, what hurts!" Sirius shouted, smoothing the boy's hair back away from his forehead and his godson shuddered in a violent spasm before his cry broke off into an unearthly moan.

"Please! Just make it stop!" the child pleaded, his hands flying up to drag at the collar of his shirt as though it was choking him. Sirius pulled the child's hands back to check his neck but saw no visible marks and Harry struggled against him banging his head violently against the wood planked floor as though he was trying to alleviate some inner agony that was burning him from the inside out.

Sirius didn't know what to do, didn't know how to react. Sirius didn't know what was hurting his godson or if Harry had been terribly frightened and he was so lost all he could do was soothe Harry with nonsensical words. Harry yanked himself away and curled onto his knees and elbows, pressing his head to the floor, trying to get the coolness to soothe him. His thumped his fists and his body tensed like a tightly coiled spring. A weaker sound came from Harry, a sound somewhere between a moan, a sob, and a cry of pain.

And then, as sudden as Harry's screams had been, his fists relaxed at the knuckles and his entire body went terribly limp and Sirius was quick to check the boy's pulse to see if he was still breathing. Harry turned his head so he could lay his cheek on the floor and he stretched out his legs, tears making his face shine from the light spilling in from the corridor.

Sirius pointed his wand at the lamp and light suddenly flooded the room. He gasped, jerking when he saw Harry's once emeralds were black as onyx and his lips were moving fast as he mumbled something over and over.

Sirius leaned close to hear what the boy was saying.

"'m not scared, not scared, not scared, not scared…." Harry was mumbling through clenched teeth.

This made Sirius' heart claw its way to his throat in an attempt to escape the terror that shot for it.

"What, Harry?" Sirius nearly begged. "What are you saying?"

Harry stopped mumbling and his lip only trembled, his eyes still as black as a starless night.

"Harry?" Sirius whispered, rubbing the child's back gently before carding his fingers through Harry's black hair. The boy didn't move, didn't speak. "Harry, are you okay?"

***_Harry_***

The only thing Harry did was shake, his muscles quivering in violent spasms of fear that had rooted so deeply within him that Harry was sure he would never be able to fully untangle the choking hold it had on his heart. He would forever be locked in its downward spiral where there was only pain, fear, and blood.

_Red is the color of blood. Of course, he had always known that, but to see the crimson pooling beneath his stomach, Harry realized that he will never see something as red as the thick, sticky liquid that pumped from beneath his ribs._

_He could barely push himself into a sitting position and when he did an agony so great exploded from his middle, so violent, so unreal that for several moments he forgot how to breathe, how to think and the only thing he saw was an outburst of black spots that flooded his vision. It was only when his lungs began to scream in panic and his brain began to cloud from the lack of oxygen that Harry remembered to drag in a shuddering gasp. He desperately clutched at his midsection, half sobs breaking from his throat._

"_Help!" He gasped to the ceiling of the basement. The only response he received was glaring darkness and a silence so loud that it roared in his ears. The floor beneath his lurched sickening and he grappled for something to hold to, to keep himself anchored—he was ready, though, ready to let his soul to slip away, to let out his final breath, to let his heart rest. But his heart was doing anything but resting—it was beating fast, rapid, violent, hard…and his lungs commanded him to gasp and suck at the musty air and he could only obey._

_Upstairs, Vernon Dursley quietly locked the basement door and smiled lovingly at his wife as she set a plate of chicken on the table. Dudley was laughing at his TV program and Vernon ruffled his son's blond tuft of hair affectionately. And as the three sat down to eat their meal in peace, below them, a little eight year old boy convulsed in spasms of pain, crying silent tears in knowledge that no one would help him if he was heard, and the blood continued to pump from his stomach as red as red can be._

Harry jolted his eyes open and he found Sirius was holding him, rocking him, and speaking gentle words of comfort to him. His godfather's warm breath tickled his forehead and tender hands stroked his cheek.

"Whatever it is, Harry," Sirius was saying above him, "I won't let it ever hurt you again." Harry shifted, and clutched his godfather's shirt to keep himself anchored to the now, terrified that his mind would catapult him into another tangle of memories had been repressing. Why were they surfacing now? Why? There were no tears in his system and Harry allowed his godfather to hold him, to protect him from the cruel, violent world that laid just beyond his bedroom door.

It seemed a while before Sirius stood, lifting Harry and placing him on his bed. But Harry refused to let go of the man's shirt and he tightened his hold.

"Don't leave me…" Harry whispered for his throat hurt from his earlier cries.

"All right," Sirius answered, climbing into bed next to his godson and propping up a pillow to lean against. Harry curled close to his godfather's side and Sirius could feel the boy trembling. The man looked down at the boy. "Won't you tell me what happened?" he asked gently. Harry raised his emerald eyes to look into Sirius' blue ones. And Sirius knew, he knew that from those green depths that Harry wasn't going to utter a word. Sirius could almost see Harry retreat so deep into himself, that Sirius knew that it would be a very long time before he knew what haunted the shadows of his godson's mind.

****Story2Tell*******

Harry stared in disconcertment at his surroundings. The dungeon was dark and somewhat damp. The candles that dimly lit the room made shadows dance like phantoms along the walls and made the cavernous room seemed haunted and threatening.

"Stop dawdling, Mr. Potter," the towering man snapped at him. "You might want to desecrate your time gaping like an idiotic house elf, but I want to make this as swift and unproblematic as viable."

Harry stared at Snape feeling somewhat shocked. He wanted nothing more than to flee from this man's presence but he didn't want to look like a coward. He shivered and looked towards the door then back at the imposing man.

"Are you deaf, Potter, or are you incapable of understanding English? Should I have used smaller words?" said Snape with a terrible sneer.

Harry bristled. "I understood perfectly clear,_ Professor_."

"Don't talk to me with disrespect, Potter or you may find yourself being used in my potions ingredients."

If it had been anyone else threatening to make him into potions, he probably wouldn't have believed them. But Snape's face was straight and his threat came without break. Harry swallowed hard before dutifully obeying, following the man across the classroom and through another pair of doors behind the giant desk. They entered a small corridor that lead past several doors before Snape brought him into a large room with shelves filled with books and a roaring fireplace. Two stuffed chairs sat in the corner with a round, ornate rug sitting beneath them.

"As Headmaster Dumbledore has implored me, I shall be teaching you the basics of controlling your magic lest you become a threat to others." Snape smirked. "We would not enjoy having the school littered with dead students."

Harry felt his face flush and guilt flooded his emotions, "He was going to kill Sirius!" he retorted hotly, feeling a shudder course through his body.

"And what a loss that would have been," Snape drawled in a tone that said it would have been anything but. "Tell me, Potter, was there a particular incantation you spoke before utterly eradicating Pettigrew's body system?"

"No." Harry answered moodily. "I don't know what it was—I just got mad and I…" Harry's lip trembled and he had to take several deep breaths before speaking again. "I…I…_killed_ him." Suddenly, Harry felt sick and he swallowed hard several times, feeling himself begin to tremble.

Snape eyed him with black, unfeeling eyes. "Do you realize, Mr. Potter, that being angry does not give you the justification to murder?"

"That's not fair! He was going to kill Sirius!" Harry shouted, balling his fist. He scowled to hold back the stinging of tears suddenly threatening to overflow. Why was this man saying all these things to him?

"As you've said before," Snape sneered down at him as he flicked his wand to shut the door behind Harry. "You are every bit as arrogant as your father. He, too, thought he could walk all over people."

Harry felt another shudder ripple through his body and he clenched his teeth, trying to blink away the red haze creeping at the edge of his vision. "Don't you talk about my dad that way." Harry warned in a low voice broiling with emotion. "He was _not _arrogant. My dad was a good man."

"And how would you know this, Mr. Potter? I was under the impression that you don't even know your father."

The professor's words cut him like a razor sharp knife and he felt the pain all the way down to his soul. The red haze grew deeper and a shudder of magic rippled through his veins.

"Draw your wand, Potter and stand at the ready." Snape slowly pulled out his ebony wand. "I will teach you how to duel and in doing that I teach you control as well."

It was more out of instinct then obedience that Harry drew out his wand .

"What spells are you familiar with Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "A lot." He lied.

Professor Snape must have seen the falsehood for his black eyes narrowed. "Bow."

"What?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"It's proper dueling etiquette!" Snape snapped. "Now bow."

Harry only did partially so, fearing adverting his eyes from the professor's wand for even a few seconds. He clenched his wand, waiting, not sure of what to do.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Suddenly, Harry felt his wand rip from his fingers and it clattered in the space between the two duelers.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry saw the jet of red light and though he didn't know what it'd do, he jumped out of the way, colliding with the tall floor lamp. It crashed with the floor and the bulb went out, making the room plunge into a gray darkness and the flickering flames of the fireplace making shadows flicker and leap.

"Dismal, Potter." The sour faced man sneered. "Retrieve your wand."

Like a suspicious animal, he crept towards his fallen wand, keeping his glaring eyes on the potion's master.

"Pick up the pace, Potter! Do you think your attackers will allow you time to tip toe around like a mischievous toddler?"

Without preamble, Harry snatched up his wand and pointed it in Snape's direction. A jet of purple and green shot out twisting like a snake before the man deflected it with a red shield.

A yellow curse flew at Harry and he suddenly felt his legs lock up and he tumbled to the floor. He fought the effects for several seconds before he was free just into time to roll out of the way of another unfamiliar spell.

"Pick yourself up Potter!"

A white furl of energy came out of Harry's wand as he imagined the Professor knocked into the wall and his gloating expression wiped clean.

Snape set up another shield but stumbled back this time, allowing Harry to send another angry jet of magic.

Harry staggered to his feet, breathing heavily, feeling light headed.

"Feeling tired, Potter?" Snape smirked. "That is why you need to know actual spells, instead of sending out random spurts of magic. You are draining yourself so much faster than if you knew your wand work."

Angry and carrying a bruised pride, Harry whipped his wand out angrily and the hue of his magic was intertwining energies of gray and gold. Snape had to twist out of the way and anger turned the man's face red. He hissed an odd word and a cutting, searing pain sliced Harry's right cheek and shoulder and Harry felt the hot liquid of blood spurting from both new wounds. Gasping from pain, Harry doubled over, clutching his shoulder, white spots dancing in his vision.

"You're angry," Snape's voice was soft and drawled out. Harry shivered. "So you decide to try and maim me."

Harry's ragged breathing was the only sound in the tense silence of the room.

"You're no better than the Dark Lord."

"No…" Harry breathed.

"You're father strutted around the castle, sure that he owned the place. He too enjoyed other people's pain. It was I who saw through him yet everyone around me seem to fall for his ability to do no wrong. Tell me Potter, do you enjoy other people's pain?"

"Shut-up!" Harry demanded, straightening his body out.

A jet of red knocked him backwards and he cracked his head on the stone floor. He lay stunned.

"You have no respect, Potter. Others may tend to coddle you and let you get away with murder, but I am different Potter. I can see straight through you and see the same things I saw in James Potter. Believe me when I say this, you idiotic boy, I can make your life a living hell."

The picture frames along the wall suddenly exploded and Harry found the strength to get to his feet. A gold bolt of electricity shot out of his wand and missed Snape by several feet. But the magic hit the ornate grandfather clock behind the potion's master and the antique imploded and caved in.

"_You know nothing of hell!_" Harry felt his magic boil inside him like burning acid. He suddenly wanted to make this man hurt.

"I know of many things, Potter. Hell is among them." Snape scorned. "Tell me, Potter, what do you know of hell?"

Harry had had enough of it all. He made to bolt for the door but something invisible tripped him up and he suddenly found himself sprawled out on the dungeon floor.

"Cowardice, Potter, to run from a duel. James Potter did the same thing—he didn't even give the Dark Lord a fight—he just walked up to death and accepted it, allowing for the Dark Lord to murder Lily. I heard that James Potter begged for death."

"Don't say that!" Harry shouted. "My dad fought! He protected my mum and me!"

"And you see where that got you?" Snape asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Both of your parents are dead and you were sent to relatives who did not even want you."

"Stop it!" Harry cried aiming another burst of magic at the man. It missed. "My relatives wanted me!"

"Is that so? That is not what I have heard. Tell me, Potter, for I am _dying _to know, why didn't you fight back? Why didn't you destroy your relatives like you did Peter Pettigrew? Or do you just hurt yourself for attention?"

"I don't want attention!"

"Then why didn't you defend yourself?" Snape seemed to be enjoying himself. Harry shakily stood to his feet.

"I couldn't—"

"Did you enjoy being hurt?"

"No, it's just—"

"Did you find pleasure ever time you were beaten?"

"NO!" Harry yelped, feeling his heart pounding. "I mean—my uncle never beat me!"

"I never said anything about your uncle. You think your relatives want you?"

"Just stop it!"

"Why didn't you fight back?"

"Please, just-just stop!"

"Why? Why do you think your relatives love you?"

"They do love me!"

"Yes, they loved you so much that they beat and starved you?" Snape had stepped closer to Harry who had forgotten his wand on the floor and had curled his hands into fists. "Why Potter, why didn't you end it!"

"I DIDN'T WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE!" Harry screamed and simultaneously an explosion rent the air. Snape ducked as the shelves of books became nothing but splinters and the fire place let out a terrible roar as the flames built to a terrifying crescendo. The ceiling shifted as a huge crack split it wide and rained debris on the two occupants. "I COULDN'T FIGHT! I JUST-JUST COULDN'T! I KNEW THAT IF I FOUGHT BACK THERE WOULD BE NOBODY THERE FOR ME! I WAS SCARED! I WAS SCARED TO BE LEFT ALONE!"

Silence. Harry was scowling to hide his tears, his whole body trembling. Snape studied him, his face no longer goading and hateful.

"You were already alone, Potter." The man's voice was soft, not demeaning.

_I know!_ Harry wanted to scream back but found he hadn't the strength to do so. He stared at the man unsure of what to think, what to feel. And Harry suddenly understood. He understood that killing his relatives would've been an easy way out and this potion's master was acknowledging this to Harry's immense shock. He'd never do it, he knew but he also knew that Snape was right.

He had always been alone.

Harry reached up to touch his cheek and stared at his fingers as he drew them away.

Red is the color of blood.

***_Severus*****_

_My scars are evidence: they are evidence that I've been through unspeakable horrors; they are evidence that I survived._

Severus Snape stared down at the child quivering before him and for once, he couldn't feel the usual satisfaction he felt when taunting a student. He suddenly felt guilty for pushing the child—for that was all he was—too far in order to see his magical ability and the instinct that had driven to Peter Pettigrew's death. As he studied Potter, a horrible sinking feeling settled somewhere deep in his gut and he realized that Dumbledore was extremely lucky to have found Potter now and not later. Did those Dursleys realize that they were creating a dark creature? Did they realize that they were slowly turning the key to open the door for another, much more terrible dark lord? Giving Potter six months to year, when full blown puberty hit, the proverbial time bomb would've exploded and Voldemort would've looked like a harmless bunny holding a plate of cookies.

Severus take a wary step forward, watching Potter's hand tighten over his wand and a spew of black and gold sparks glanced off the stone floor and scattered, glowing like dying embers.

"St-stay away!" Potter demanded in a shaky voice his eye wild in fear, like a cornered animal that had made up its mind to fight to the death. "I'll-I'll hurt you like I did Peter Pettigrew!"

For the first time since Severus could remember, he felt a pang of pity for the little waif who was attempting to be as menacing as possible and Severus knew he had gone too far with the insults. This was not your ordinary boy wizard—Potter's magic was far more mature, more developed then many full grown men that Severus had met—he had yet to grow into it. And aside from the magic, Severus was realizing that Potter was only a very scared, very lonely little boy who didn't want to be hurt anymore.

"Potter, why don't we put our wands away for a while and I will show you some basic principles of the art of Potions." Severus was now grappling to regain control of the situation that he had allowed to go out of hand. He didn't want Potter to view him as an enemy.

Potter seemed to contemplate this with distrust making his eyes glow. "You put your wand away first." Potter stipulated.

Severus raised an eyebrow in vague surprise. How very…_Slytherin…_he thought. Any stupid Gryffindor would've trusted too fast but this boy seemed to calculate the situation first before coming to a decision. Carefully, with exaggerated motions, Severus returned his wand back to its spot within his robes and then waited expectedly for Potter to do the same.

After several moments of basilisk-worthy glaring, Potter complied, his movements almost as slow as Severus'. Immediately, the room entered into a more relaxed state now that they weren't jabbing wands at each other. Potter seemed to deflate slightly and his face almost looked apologetic. Okay, maybe not _that_ Slytherin.

The two regarded each other for several moments—Potter was still glaring daggers though his animosity seemed to fading from his brilliantly green eyes. He didn't move when Severus beckoned for him to follow and Severus struggled with patience knowing that beneath his vicious exterior, Potter was overwhelmed with fear and confusion.

"I think you will find Potions to be an extremely interesting art—I suggest you follow me," Severus quirked his eyebrow at the child. He wasn't going to coddle the boy—Merlin knew that Potter got enough of it already—but he decided to treat the child with at least a little respect, of course not enough to damage his reputation.

Potter seemed to be struggling with decisiveness.

"Or if you wish, Mr. Potter, we may continue on with dueling."

"No!" Potter immediately protested and the boy hurried to keep up with Severus' long strides. For several moments, there were only the sounds of their footsteps.

"What kind of potions do you cook?" Potter finally asked in a voice that only half hid his curiosity, cautiously following Severus into his lab.

Severus sneered. "One does not _cook_ potions, Potter, one _brews _a potion. It is an exact science that calls for patience, preciseness, and the utmost ability to concentrate."

"I like science," Potter answered and Severus rolled his eyes. Was that the only thing the little cretin got out of his small speech?

"I am unbearably _happy_ for you, you stupid child," Severus billowed into the room, finding pleasure in seeing Potter's eyes widen in trepidation. "Now, Potions can be used for innumerable uses—I can teach you how to bottle glory, brew love, create poisons, and even put a stopper on death."

Potter didn't look that impressed at his first year students usually did. This made Severus feel disgruntled.

"Potions are also used in medicine, used for healing both the mind and the body. Some potion's can even re-grow bones over the course of a night."

"What about scars?" Potter asked suddenly, eyeing Severus' many shelves of Potion ingredients.

Severus eyed the little creature. "I regret to say, Potter, that your cursed scar has no hope of being removed if that is what you mean."

Potter shook his head. "No, I'm talking about other scars. Can you make me—"

_"Brew._" Severus corrected.

"Yes that, could you _brew_ me something to make my scars to go away?"

"It all depends, Potter on the severity of the scars and their placement on your body. Show me which scars you would like to be rid of."

"No!" Potter sputtered loudly, looking mortified and as though Severus had asked him to jump off the astronomy tower and fly.

"Stop being so dramatic, brat!" Severus snapped, feeling a sudden headache press at his temples. "How must I determine if a potion will succeed in what you wish if you do not show me the scars?"

"Can't you just give me something?" the boy asked reproachful like, his green eyes glancing at Severus from under dark eye lashes.

Damn those eyes!

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths. "Potter," Severus spoke as gently as he could, struggling with his need to belittle. "Po—_Harry_," _did I just say that?_ "Harry, I cannot help you if you do not show me the scars you want to be rid of. I am not making you, but I won't give you anything otherwise."

Pot—_Harry_ seemed to contemplate this, his green eyes showing the struggle and panic he was attempting to wade through.

"I don't like it when people see my scars," the boy spoke in a small voice. "I don't like to see the looks that they give me."

Severus raised his eyebrows, "Well, Harry, I promise my detachment in the matter if you so wish."

Harry Potter, the son of James Potter, raised his brilliant emerald eyes and Severus nearly recoiled at the fragile trust he saw there, suddenly breaking though the fear that had clouded them. Lily's eyes.

No. he mustn't let this child trust him. He glared savagely at the boy who blinked in surprise and took a step back, bracing himself against a wooden lab bench with his hands, as though he were readying himself to make a run for it if the need called.

Such small, fragile hands. Severus thought and he could see the thin, tiny blue-green spider web of veins against the pale membrane of Harry's skin. He looked down at this little child and Severus felt a pang somewhere in his chest as he noticed how small, how breakable the boy seemed to be and Severus felt sick to his stomach. The child's face was small and exotic with astonishingly eyes as green as rare jewels and the freckle dust that brushed his cheeks and nose added to the boy's innocence. His hair was a black as spilled ink as were his eyelashes that framed Lily's eyes in a way the young woman could never had accomplished with her red ones. And Severus wondered, he wondered how someone could look at this little, interesting creature and reach out a hand in violence. He had heard stories from the Professors—could Harry's uncle really had taken this little thing and stripped his back raw and bloody.

Severus felt evil as he recalled how he had treated Harry earlier and unthinkingly he reached to touch the gash on the boy's cheek. Harry flinched away then immediately looked embarrassed. He raised those damned eyes and Severus felt as though those emeralds pierced straight to his core just as Lily's had done but instead of understanding that Severus had seen in Lily's, Harry's held the weight of world and the hope that someone would come and save him.

The Potion's Master closed his eye and within his mind he saw Lily, her face beaming, her red hair splashed with golden sunlight. Her brilliant green eyes were full of joy. He had killed her. He had offered his only friend, his only love up to the dark lord. And suddenly, the flawless locks the spilled over her shoulders was no longer hair but a glistening, hot liquid that smeared her gray skin and trickled into her unblinking eyes.

_I don't know if I can do this Lily._

Red would always be the color of blood.


	11. Safe and Sound

_**Well here it is guys! Took a lot of hard work and I'm still not entirely happy with it but I hope you guys enjoy it!**  
_

* * *

_I remember tears streaming down your face_

_When I said I'd never let you go_

_When all the shadows almost killed your light_

_I remember you said 'don't leave me here alone'_

_But all that's dead and gone and past tonight…_

It was raining. Again. Harry sat on the window sill, his cheek resting on his hand, staring out at the smeared world. Hobbs batted his paws, playing at the strings of Harry's hoodie while Hedwig rested in her cage, her large brown eyes unblinking and observant. The three large tomes that Professor Snape had given him sat on the desk untouched. Harry felt frustrated and he didn't really feel as though he was ready to go to this school and learn all these new things revolving around magic. The evening he had spent with Snape left Harry unsettled but not as angry as he thought he should be. Though Snape had been uncaring and maybe as far as cruel, Harry felt as though he was the first person to be completely real towards him.

Hobbs gave a pitiful meow and Harry looked down at the kitten who cocked its head in an undeniable plea for attention. Harry absentmindedly gave it to the little creature and looked back out the window, feeling his anxiety rising in waves and he breathed deep and slow to keep from drowning altogether. Ever since he had come to live with Sirius and Remus, his anxiety attacks had become more frequent and intense. Back at the Dursley's, Harry focused every single second of his time keeping himself emotionless and detached so that his fear and anxiety attacks were always kept in check. Now, away from his relatives, the situation seems to have worsened his emotional health instead of helped. Was that supposed to make sense?

A gentle knock at his door made him jump and Hobbs, startled as well, sprang from his lap and bolted under the bed.

Sirius opened the door, with his usual goofy grin. Though it seemed plastered instead of a natural part of his look, like usual, and Harry wondered if maybe his guardian was feeling anxiety as well.

Remus came in behind the taller man and smiled kindly at Harry. "Are you ready?" He asked without any precursor.

Harry nodded and stood, straightening his hoodie nervously, doing his best to look stoic and unaffected. He shouldered his book bag.

Sirius pulled an object from the pack and held out for Harry and Remus to touch.

Harry hesitated touching the tattered book that smelled oddly of pickles. He remembered the nauseating sensation of traveling by portkey and needless to say he wasn't exactly excited to use it again.

"There's no other way, Harry," Remus sympathized, reading Harry's hesitance correctly. "We're traveling a great distance and by portkey is the most safe and convenient."

Harry begged to differ. He fought back a grumpy glare and reached a finger towards the book, squeezing his eyes shut he was yanked violently by his naval. Thankfully enough, the horrid sensation only lasted thirty seconds before Harry's feet hit pavement. He stumbled but managed to keep his feet. Sirius brushed off the front of his jeans and stowed the pocket book in his back pocket, stealing at Harry a grim look.

"You sure you're ready for this kiddo?" the man asked, looking as though _he_ was the one who wasn't ready for "this".

Harry gave a slight nod, glancing nervously about the dingy hotel room.

Sirius ran a quick ran through his hair and motioned at Harry. "Then let's get this shit—I mean crap done."

Dodging a reproachful look from Remus, Sirius lumbered out the hotel door with Harry and Remus in his wake.

The hotel was quiet and calm and the only people who were about included a stout janitor bopping his head to some music playing from his iPod and a woman with limp blond hair sitting half asleep behind the front desk. She straightened as they past, staring at Remus and Sirius with a look of befuddlement.

Harry noticed Remus and Sirius share a look of amusement that Harry didn't understand.

Stepping out of the rundown hotel, Harry felt an odd sense of de jua vu, like he had been here before. Well, he felt silly because he knew he had been here before with Sirius and Remus but he didn't really remember being the bad state he had been in. He felt his fingers beginning to twitch with terrible anticipation. Stepping outside and seeing the familiar emptiness of his hometown, Harry felt his heart begin to pound and he swallowed convulsively.

Maybe he wasn't ready for this.

***_Sirius_

When the three of them stepped outside, the world was caught in a downpour.

"Well this is dreary," Sirius stated, flinging his already wet bangs from his eyes. He looked to his side at his godson. The boy didn't even acknowledge Sirius. He stood with his eyes straight ahead, water streaming down his face, his lip trembling from the chill in the air. His hands were clenched into fists and tension vibrated his wisp of a body.

Harry must have felt Sirius looking at him for those brilliantly green jewels flashed up at him through the dreary gray.

"All right there, kiddo?" He asked the boy.

Harry didn't answer, just looked away.

"We're going to be with you Harry—we'll be in and out. They will not touch you."

Harry looked up again at both men and the icy look in his eyes sent a shiver up Sirius' spine that was not cold induced. Something told him that if the Dursleys' had laid a single finger on Harry, that it would not be Harry that suffered. Sirius felt a thrill of fear at the thought of what Harry would have become had Sirius and Remus not found him when they did.

The old blue rented car sat waiting for them like planned and Remus took the wheel while Sirius took the front and Harry clambered into the back.

The ride was quicker than Sirius remembered or maybe it was just his nerves that made the time fly by. Harry remained silent the entire time. Sirius looked back on him in the review mirror continuously on the way to Troy and the boy only stared silently out the window, his body tense. Sirius wanted to say something to his charge, to reassure him somehow...but what could he say to this broken child to make it all better? That was just it. There was nothing _to _say. No words, no actions that could mend what Harry had been through. And Sirius felt so helpless against that. He hoped though, that doing this could somehow, someway bring some sort of closure to Harry's life even if it is somewhat sloppy and rushed.

Then Sirius second guessed his thought. Could there ever be any sort of closure to something like this? Could Harry ever really heal? Did his wounds go too deep? Sirius suddenly felt as though Harry would spend his entire life trying to heal from his relatives' muti-level abuse. Sirius' fist closed around his seat belt. He glared out the window, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw was starting to hurt. He could feel Remus glancing at him and Sirius shook his head subtly, not wanting Harry to hear the thoughts running through his head.

Remus cleared his throat. "Harry," he looked up at the mirror. "Do you know how to get to your relatives from here?"

Sirius heard Harry let out a breathy sigh.

"Yes, Sir," Harry muttered. "Just take a right on Maine street, head down towards Parlow and turn left then turn left again on Mckaig and you'll see the house of the right."

"Thanks, kiddo," Remus smiled back at the boy but Harry was already back to staring out the window. Both men threw each other glances.

Maybe bringing Harry back wasn't such a good idea after all.

_***Harry_

The rain was only a gentle mist falling from plumes of gray clouds. Wisps of fog hugged the pavement and the early morning was still and silent as though it was waiting for something, anything to kick it back to respired measures. In the quiet of the still neighborhood, Harry felt as though his pounding heart could be heard clear across town; his stomach roiled nonstop. He gulped in several great gulps of air, grabbing the white picket fence for support as nausea lurched within him.

"Hey," Remus put a hand on his back in concern. "You all right?"

Taking in several steadying breaths, Harry nodded slowly. It took all the strength and fortitude within him to climb the front steps. It wasn't the cool air that made him shiver—it was an icy fear that sank deep within his bones. He didn't know why he was so scared. The Dursleys' were out and he wasn't going to make any sort of contact with them but being in the house that he had been conditioned by horror and pain and rejection he knew that the flood of memories was going to be overwhelming.

He hesitated touching the doorknob for a moment. It was the soft prodding by his guardian that made him open the door. The three of them stepped into the entrance hall and stood stock still for several minutes as though each of them feared waking some unseen monster lurking in the deep shadows.

"Do you know all that you're here to get?" Remus asked in a calming voice.

Harry nodded and was the first one to step deeper into the house. He was not going to chicken out. He didn't want his guardians to see how weak he could be. He didn't want them to see him break down. So Harry steeled himself and pushed back his emotions like he had down so many times before. If he could fight back his feelings, he could desensitize himself from the unspeakable horrors that had been directed towards him in these very rooms.

Even though there was little light, Harry knew how to navigate through the Dursley's house without his sight. He let his hands graze the furniture as he passed: the sofa, the glass display case, the dining table…and he paused when he reached the swinging door that led to the kitchen. He heard Sirius and Remus pause behind him, waiting for him to move forward. But Harry found himself frozen, unable to push through, unwilling to feel the swamp of emotions and feelings pressing just below the surface. He had never heard silence quite so loud.

"All right there, kiddo?" Sirius asked in a breathy whisper that shattered the stillness and allowed Harry to take a breath. He wasn't alone in this; there was nothing to be feared. The Dursley's were gone and he had both of his guardians watching his every move. And he had his magic. No one was going touch here him with his magic harnessed at his fingertips.

Harry said nothing as he pushed through the door and stepped onto kitchen tile. Remus moved forward with his wand and its white light showered the spotless kitchen. Harry gave the room a quick once over, willing his stupid heart to stop punching his ribs and he pointed towards the back end of the room. Beyond the refrigerator was the dark wooded door that led to the descending staircase leading to the basement. All three moved forward and Harry's breath caught in his throat. He suddenly didn't feel so good.

The door was bolted, chained, and locked simultaneously. The metal had rusted somewhat and chips of brown flakes had dusted the floor right in front of the door; which was odd. Why hadn't Aunt Petunia cleaned it up? She was usually such a compulsive cleaner that something to this extent would have sent her into a fit. But apparently, she had been unwilling to clean in front of this door. Harry wondered why.

With steady finger tips, Harry brushed the locks and one right after another they unlocked, the sound of rusted metal rubbing made Harry cringe. He mentally willed the door to swing open and a puff of dust greeted them.

***Remus***

The anxiety in the air was thick and overwhelming. Remus held up his wand and found the light switch. He was momentarily shocked by the sudden flood of light and he had to close his eyes for several moments to get used to the sudden change. When he was ready, Remus got a good look around.

It was a rather large basement, with stone floors and walls. In one corner sat a pale of discarded toys, shoes, books, and boxes of odd and ends all covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt. Other than that the basement was empty except for the insects and dust. There was a musty, metallic smell and a wet cold feeling that hung in the air and Remus found himself fighting back a shiver that threatened to run down his spine. Brown splatters colored the floor in mismatched pattern and scuff marks littered the stone as though someone had been running around in a furious haste.

Remus blinked. Blinked again. Then swallowed hard. An icy sort of horror curdled in his gut. Acid seemed to suddenly boil in his veins and his throat closed convulsively. His fingers grabbed his wand, red sparks spitting out of the tip. But who could he attack? There was nothing there. Nothing but the stone, the dust, and the brown splatters on the floor. Remus crouched down and placed a steadying hand on the floor, swallowing down the vomit speeding up his throat.

Blood. It was blood on the floor. Dried brown and old. The metallic smell that had hung in the air was the blood that had spilled from a child and it had never been cleaned up. As if there was no fear of being caught, as if they knew no one would know or care or take the time to check on the safety of the Boy-Who-Lived. Remus suddenly saw a rush of scenes in his mind that blocked out all other senses. He no longer saw the thirteen year old boy with an unmovable defiance and a serious face. He saw a child, fragile and scared, cowering on a cold stone floor, crying for someone to care, he saw the bloodshed, the pain, the terror. He saw that man, that horrid, evil man standing over his little creature with no mercy in his glinting eyes.

A rage so violent, so unyielding flooded his being causing him to stand up with a lurch, his eyes glowing gold, tremors snaking through his limbs. He was filled with carnal instinct to kill, to seek revenge for his cub.

"I'll kill him," Remus snarled between gritted teeth. "I'll rip out his throat and feed his soul to the dementors!" he kicked on the boxes as hard as he could, ignoring the two pairs of eyes staring wide eyed at him. "No, dementors would be too good for that bastard!"

It had been a long time since Remus had lost his cool in front of company. He looked at Harry who was looking at him with something akin to embarrassment and sorrow. He then looked at Sirius who shook his head slightly, warning him to reign in the wolf. It was so odd how their roles had suddenly reversed. Remus wasn't sure if Sirius had noticed the blood stains on the stone floor but he defintitely going to point it out in front of Harry. That poor kid had enough to deal with.

"I'm going to take some air for a minute." He muttered softly, taking the basement stairs two at a time. He wanted to hurt something, anything and he knew it was pure luck that Vernon Dursley wasn't home for their visit. Remus didn't know if he would have been able to control himself at all. He wasn't sure what he would have done, but it wouldn't had been pretty.

When Sirius and Harry joined Remus out on the front porch, the werewolf had calmed down considerably, more for Harry's sake more than ever. The boy in question was carrying a tattered back pack, a thick book of piano music that was stained and torn but otherwise intact. He looked hesitantly at Remus as though he was unsure about Remus' earlier outburst. But Remus gave his charge a encouraging look.

Harry quickly dropped his gaze, worrying his lip in a display of anxiety. Looking away from the boy, Sirius caught Remus' eye and look on his face said that he would fill in Remus later and it wasn't going to be a pleasant story.

Remus' fists tightened and he drew in several deep breaths before offering Harry a gentle smile and placing a hand on his back. "Come on, Harry, lets go home."

***_Harry_***

_ Harry knew exactly how many steps there were that led down into the basement. Thirteen. Thi__r__teen steps that led to his little cupboard. Thirteen creaks that led to a new horror. Thirteen seconds for Harry to brace himself. When Harry heard the moan of the basement door being opened, his fist clenched, his heart started to beat frantically. Out of pure habit, he began to count the steps, each one unbearably slow. He looked around haphazardly, searching for a place to hide, for an escape route. He never found anything._

_Instead, he backed himself into the farthest corner of his cupboard, wishing, hoping that some way, somehow he could melt into some sort of non-existence, to disappear. He tried to breathe normally, to keep his breathing quiet, to keep from being noticeable. He couldn't. His breathing came loud and harsh, on the verge of sobs._

_Nine...ten...eleven..._

_Please stop, please go away, please...please... Harry inwardly begged, cried, pleaded with God up above. Apparently, God was busy somewhere else._

_Twelve...thirteen..._

_There was a silence. Harry pressed his hands over his mouth, stifling his breath. Maybe his uncle hadn't come down here for him but for some storage. Maybe if Harry was quiet enough, Vernon wouldn't notice him. Light suddenly flooded the basement and Harry flinched at the unfamiliar brigh__t__ness_

"_Boy,"_

_Harry froze, his teeth chattering in the silence._

"_Come here." his voice was calm. Almost nice._

_Harry knew better. Like a fearful puppy, he crawled out of his cupboard and to his uncle's feet. He didn't rise up off the floor but remained on all floors. He learned the hard way what would happen if he stood up before he was allotted to. He clenched his teeth._

"_You're very quiet today," his uncle mused. _

_Harry swallowed. _

"_Do you know why I'm down here?"_

_Harry shook his head slightly, his eyes locked on the dusty floor. His heart punched his ribs._

"_What?"_

"_N-no..." Harry whispered. His lips began to tremble but he worked his face into a deep scowl; he would not cry._

"_WHAT?!"_

_Harry started, his body stiffening like a board, preparing for the first blow. "No!" He cried out. "I don't know! 'M sorry, m' sorry!"_

"_Stand up."_

_Harry instantly obeyed, steeling himself._

"_Boy, are you scared?"_

_Harry shuddered at the sound of his uncle's voice, sickeningly sweet._

"_Are you scared?"_

"_No, Uncle Vernon...'m not scared. 'M not scared."_

_Vernon patted the top of Harry's head, then used his sausage fingers to tilt Harry's chin up so they saw eye to eye. They stared at each other for a moment, Harry' s eyes glaring fearfully, mustering up every bit of courage he had to meet his Uncle's gray eyes. He could smell the liquor on his Uncle's breath._

"_Boy..."_

"_'m not scared..." Harry choked out._

_Vernon smiled. "Good."_

_Then Harry closed his eyes, bracing himself, readying his mind to visit someplace happy and safe. But there were no fists, no choking hand; just the sound of a swift motion and the sickening wet crunch of flesh._

_For a moment, all Harry felt was shock. He looked at his uncle in confusion, unsure of what had just happened. Vernon stared back at him in shock as well, as though he wasn't sure of what had ha__p__pened either._

_Then Harry looked down and saw the red stain blossoming like a flower on his ragged shirt. He saw the kitchen knife protruding from his stomach and he unconsciously wrapped his fingers around the black handle and pulled the knife from his own flesh. It hit the stone floor with a clatter too loud for Harry's ears._

_Then he felt the pain. Horrible, agonizing. It hit him like train and he collapsed, hugging his arms to his stomach, attempting to push it back. He wanted to die, he wanted darkness to come fast and swift. But the minutes went by sluggishly, as hot, sticky blood seeped through is shirt, between his fi__n__gers, pooling beneath him. The world swirled around him like a spinning top; colors and shapes blurred into indistinct masses._

"_Please," Harry panted between gasps. But that was all he managed to get out. Please just finish me! He inwardly screamed._

_But his uncle only turned from him and suddenly the shapes and colors plunged into darkness as Vernon flipped the switch. And Harry counted the steps. Thirteen steps. And the basement door slammed shut._

_And it was then that unconsciousness stole him._

****Harry*****

Blood. Everywhere. He could smell it, taste, it, feel the heat of it on his stomach and chest. For several long moments, he was trapped in the darkness of the basement, feeling the cool stone against his skin, feeling the pulses of pain moving through his body. He struggled to open his eyes, to push down the fear. He couldn't escape; he would be forever in this hell hole, trapped in a vortex of pain and horror.

Harry's eyes flew open and his hands went straight for his abdomen. He was gasping and panting; sweat drenched his shirt and shorts. The sheets were twisted around his body in a confining hold. He flailed for a second, attempting to free himself.

_Oomph!_ Harry hit the floor. His palms, slick with sweat, slipped on the wooden planks as he fought to get to his feet. He grabbed the bed frame for support and hauled himself up. He fumbled in the gray-darkness, struggling to grasp his bearings. His dream still clouded his mind. He grappled for his glasses; they slipped off his night stand and fell between the table and his bed. He dove for them and cracked his forehead on the small wooden table. He sank back to the floor with a moan, seeing stars.

For a moment, he sat there, wiping frantically at his shirt, convinced that the blood was still soaking his clothes. He didn't want Remus or Sirius to see him like this. He didn't want them to see all the blood.

Wait. He thought. Just wait.

Harry took in several slow breaths, finding his way to his feet again. He stood in broken moonlight, feeling beads of sweat slip down the side of his face. He fisted his shirt tightly, struggling to separate fact and fiction.

It was just a dream. He told himself slowly.

_But the blood!_ His mind screamed back at him. _Why was there so much blood?!_

Harry drew in a great shuddering breath, shivering in the aftermath of his nightmare. There was no blood. He repeated to himself. He drew in another steadying breath. With a churning stomach, he stumbled his way to the bathroom, swallowing heavily to hold down the nausea. He flipped the switch once there and flinched at the sudden blaring light. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the glare and he blinked rapidly, finding a spot on the floor by the toilet, grasping the porcelain bowl. The water in the toilet was like a clear sheet of glass, motionless, with a white streak of a glare from the ceiling light above. He stared unseeingly.

This was always the worst part: waiting for the nausea to build up until his body finally gave in. He swallowed convulsively. He spat out the pooling saliva into the toilet. His limbs were quivering and his heart fluttered with anxiety. He hated getting sick. To Harry, it was one of the worst feelings in the world. His hands were shaking and his stomach felt as though it was playing tug-o-war with the rest of his insides.

And then it came.

A violent nausea swept into his stomach, overwhelming and potent and everything else seemed to fade until all that was left was this horrid sensation ripping open his insides. Harry's hands tightened reflexively on the toilet lid as he braced himself, gulping fast as his stomach made a rapid excursion up to his throat. He gave in without a fight, convulsed once than violently vomited. Just the sound of his sickness hitting the water make him gag again until all that was left was yellow bile burning his throat and mouth. His stomach and abdomen seared and squeezed until all he was doing was dry heaving.

Tears burned his eyes. He spat a couple times in an attempt to get rid of the remnants of sickness from his mouth. He felt horrible and weak. Clumsily, he lifted a hand and fumbled with the handle, grateful when the stench was flushed away. Using a sleeve to wipe his mouth, he then dropped his forehead on the porcelain edge and closed his eyes for a momentary rest. The throbbing in his head had dulled and his stomach slowed its churning.

Harry sagged against the toilet seat, feeling the relief of having gotten through his sickness. It took several minutes for him to catch his breath. An unexpected knock at the bathroom door made him jump.

"Hey kiddo?" Sirius suddenly called through the door. His voice was filled with concern. "You okay in there? I heard some pretty serious noise coming through the wall a few minutes ago."

Harry groaned. He was embarrassed that Sirius would see him like this. He sat up quickly, wiping at his mouth again. He flushed the toilet again in an attempt to get rid of the rancid smell still lingering in the air.

Sirius opened to door slowly and took in the scene for a moment. "Bloody hell, mate," he murmured, snatching a towel off the rack and wetting it. A moment later, Harry felt the cool, damp cloth against the back of his neck and Sirius' hand on his clammy forehead. "Did you eat something off?"

Harry swallowed. "Nightmare." He muttered. Harry leaned back against the tub, unwilling to meet his godfather's eyes. He could still feel the scrutinizing gave of his guardian and for a moment, it seemed as though Sirius was struggling to find the words to speak.

"Bad one, eh?" he said finally.

Harry didn't answer; instead he launched forward gagging, almost missing the toilet. Spew speckled the toilet lid. Gasping as he finished, Harry grabbed the edge of the tub for support, feeling his throat burn and his stomach sore from the force of his retching.

"You're okay, kid," Sirius said uneasily, rubbing Harry's back. "I know it sucks."

When Harry was completely finished, he fell weakly against the tub.

"You wanna talk about it?" At the dark look on Harry's face, Sirius backtracked. "Wait, never mind—let's worry about that later. You look like hell. You wanna attempt to get back in bed."

Harry didn't want to come out and say it, but he was frightened to leave the toilet. When he was younger, Harry remembered the flu season and he had been one of the many unlucky children to have caught a bout of it. When the nausea first hit him, he had frozen in terror. Being sick had been one of his first fears and instead of seeking a toilet or trashcan, Harry stayed in his spot in the corner of the living room, feeling his heart pound and his stomach roil. When he vomited on the carpet, Harry had received one of the worst beatings of his life. It had scarred him mentally and he always feared the flu season.

Sirius must have seen the anxiety on his face. "You know what, I could sit here with you for a while if you're still feeling sick. Don't want you ruining the fancy carpet." Sirius laughed at his own inside joke but the laughter died off into awkward silence when Harry didn't join in.

"You don't have to," Harry frowned, feeling uneasy as the request. He was more comfortable by himself.

Sirius gave him a weird look. "Remus would kill me if he knew I left you by yourself while you were sick. Besides, I want to be here for you. I always hated being sick when I was a kid. My cousin Andromeda would sit with me until she was officially kicked off the family Black tree. Then it was actually _your_ grandmother who sat with me. She was a sweet lady. Very accepting when she let me stay here after I ran away."

Harry knew at a different time, he would have been more interested but at that moment, he heaved once before retching yellow bile.

Sirius rubbed his back again.

"Please," Harry choked. "I don't need you to be here," Harry did his best to muster up a glare, feeling his face red. He felt too vulnerable.

Sirius gave him a look that read 'are you serious?' and Harry knew he was fighting a losing battle.

Harry sighed as he flushed the toilet. This was going to be a long night.

***Remus***

The next morning was a nice one. The sun broke the horizon in a dazzling array of pinks and orange crowned with a smear of bright blue. A song bird twittered right outside the window and a gentle wind made the trees sway gently.

Remus stood at his bedroom window, enjoying the relaxing view for a moment. Then he slipped his feet into a pair of slippers and made his way down the hall to check on Harry. He had heard the clamor last night and had woken up to find Sirius and Harry into the bathroom with the smell of vomit tainting the air. Remus was quick on his feet. He changed Harry's sheets, opened his bedroom window to welcome in some fresh summer night air and provided a bucket and a stomach calming potion. Harry had insisted that he would be fine the rest of the right and practically begged Sirius and Remus to leave him be. Both men had agreed reluctantly after making Harry promise to call for one of them if he needed anything.

Remus quietly opened Harry's bedroom door. He was surprised to see a pair of startling green eyes peering at him over a pile of covers.

Remus smiled affectionately. "How're you feeling, Harry?" he asked gently. He walked into the room and sat on the edge of his godson's bed. He placed a hand on the boy's forehead and was comforted to feel that Harry's skin felt cool.

"Fine," Harry mumbled, before diving beneath the covers again.

Remus eyed the lump of covers for a second, thoughtful.

"Are you feeling up for breakfast?" he asked the hump on the bed. It moved slightly and a muffled answer came from beneath the covers. "What did you say?"

Harry threw back the covers, looking grumpy. The boy was scowling to cover up his embarrassment. "I don't know," He muttered, fidgeting with the sheets.

"Still feeling nauseas?"

Harry shrugged.

Remus sighed and dropped down on the edge of bed. "Sirius told me you got sick over a nightmare…" he began, carefully picking his words. "Why don't you tell me what it was about? It must have been pretty bad to invoke such a reaction."

"It doesn't matter." Harry stated flatly.

Remus did his best to quell the frustration that rose within him. He waited several moments, wanting to be sure that his voice came out neutral and not reproachful. "I would really like to help, Harry. But how am I supposed to help when you won't let me?"

Harry looked down at his lap, a sour look on his face.

"Harry?" Remus prodded

"I said I didn't want to talk about it!" Harry snapped. His brilliantly green eyes looked up at Remus; they were piercing and dark. But beneath the anger Remus saw a glint of panic lighting up those jewels. It was that fear that made Remus mentally take a step back. Harry may be putting up a front but Remus saw the terror that begged him not to push him anymore and Remus told himself that he would broach the subject later with Harry, when the boy was less emotional.

"Why don't you come down to breakfast and afterwards, put a bit of lessons in for today's schedule?"

Harry frowned. "Lessons?" He asked slowly.

"Yes," Remus answered firmly, unwilling to be moved. "I thought we could work on a bit of wand work today."

"Why?" Harry asked grumpily.

"There's no better day like today. Hogwart's first term starts in less than three weeks." Remus gave Harry's leg a gentle pat. "Let's get up and about, wash up, and I'll see you in minute at the table." Remus gave no allowance to Harry.

He didn't know what he about to put himself up to.

Remus was quickly losing patience. For a little while, he had thought that Harry was making progress with magic with his acceptance and attitude. But today, sitting in the parlor, with broken rays of sunshine coming through window, creating patterns of tree branches on the carpet, Remus felt close to giving up for the day for Harry was nowhere near cooperating. The young teenager hadn't said a single word since their chat that morning in bed and his eyes were stone and ice, refusal a deadly spark behind the mask.

"Magic can be so much fun, Harry if you give it a chance." Remus cleared his throat quickly.

He didn't want to sound like he was begging. "Harry, this Transfiguration spell is so simple and I know you are beyond capable." Remus was struggling to hang on to his cool. "All I want you to do is turn the rat into a pincushion and you can go do whatever you want and have the rest of the day to yourself." Remus almost added a please to the end of his statement but refrained from doing so. "I'm not asking you, Harry. I'm telling you to. And if you can't show me a little respect than you will be punished accordingly."

Harry remained sitting on the sofa, his face dark, his wand lying untouched on the coffee table next to the box that contained the rat. The creature squeaked and scurried back and forth, its whiskers twitching and its beady eyes bright.

Remus realized then and there that is was impossible to argue with someone who only used unmoving, silent defiance and Remus would've loved to be raising a cheeky teenager than a brooding one. You just can't argue with silence. "Harry," His voice had raised up a notch. "Attempt the spell. Or I will fail you and you will have to start Hogwarts a year behind with kids younger than you." It was a rather lousy threat, Remus realized, but what was he going to take away from a kid who was used to having nothing?

Harry's hand twitched slightly but his lips remained pressed in a thin stubborn line and Remus' anger was boiling acid rising fast and hot. It took a lot for Remus to lose his temper but this kid seemed to know the exact keys to turn and buttons to push.

"Please tell me what you problem is, Harry. Because I can't help you otherwise. I can't read minds and you are really starting to pull on my last nerve."

One heartbeat. Two. Three. And four seconds later, Harry straightened and crossed his arms in defiance.

"That's it! I have had with you and your emotional constipation Harry James Potter!" Remus shouted loudly. "What do you want from me? What is it that I'm doing so wrong here? I'm trying to bloody help you Harry but your defiance has gone on too long! Go to your room and I want you to stay there until you can apologize and find it within yourself to do as you're told. No dinner, no broom, and no friends!" Remus' throat was raw by the time he was done yelling.

Harry stood up quickly, a flicker, a glimpse of fear in those damned eyes—just enough for Remus to feel a flood of guilt—and Harry sprinted for his bedroom. Remus dropped into the armchair and buried his face in his hands and let a deflating sigh.

"All right?" Sirius asked from the doorway.

"I just don't understand," Remus leaned back in his chair. "Why is he acting like this, Sirius? Sometimes, I just want to grab that child's shoulders and shake him until he understands that what I'm trying to do is just help him."

Sirius chuckled humorlessly. "I doubt that would work, Moony." Sirius ran a hand through his hair, picking up Hobbs off the floor after the kitten meowed for attention. "It's going to be hard, Remus. I think we both realized this once Harry came into our care. He's just not used to all of this—patience is the only we're going to be able to get him to do anything."

"Yes, but where is the point when we stop being patient and start being guardians who get respect from their charge? We can't let Harry get away with being disrespectful and blatantly defiant."

"What, do you think we should give the kid a good whipping?" Sirius raised his eyebrows high.

"No, Sirius. Don't be an idiot." Remus huffed in annoyance. "I don't think hitting Harry will get anywhere but more anger. Harry's been struck enough."

"Then I don't know," Sirius shrugged his shoulders, still holding the cat and stroking its head. "The only punishment I knew when I was a kid was a good whipping and suspension from Quidditch."

Remus stood and stretched as he thought, knowing a good stern talking to wouldn't do any good either. Harry's wall was too thick to break though.

"Well, I sent him to his room with no dinner or fun till he apologizes."

"That's all you can do."

"I don't know why he doesn't want to learn his magic? I thought he was finally beginning to accept who he was and that learning magic is not a bad thing but something that could further his life is every single way."

"So did I. Maybe..." Sirius' face got suddenly dark. "Maybe Snivellous did something—that bat is always up to no good."

"Now wait, Sirius," Remus cautioned, wanting to avoid an altercation. "We can't always put the blame on him. Maybe you're right about just being patient and fair with Harry until we can break through to him. Harry knows he is being wrong, he knows right from wrong and we have done nothing to not earn respect for him. We have to wait and if worse comes to worst maybe we can get him some sort of, well...I hate to say this but maybe Harry needs a professional to talk to."

"Harry's not crazy!" Sirius retorted immediately.

"I didn't say he was! I'm just merely suggestion someone who knows what they're doing and have had experience with getting through to abused children. A psychologist would understand and know how to handle Harry."

"You really think Harry is going to let us make him talk to a psychologist?"

"It's not his choice, but ours. We're his guardians, not his peers."

Sirius hesitated. "I guess that make be helpful..." he agreed slowly.

"We'll see if we get to that point but I know that St. Mungos has good pediatric psych care." Remus brushed his pants off and pocketed his wand. "I'll just leave Harry alone for a bit and let him gather his thoughts. And _I _think I'm due for a stiff drink, ey?"

"I'll definitely join you for that one, Moony."

****_Harry_

Meanwhile upstairs, Harry pushed open the window over his bed as he balanced on the headboard which wobbled slightly under his weight. Despite being used to closed spaces, Harry felt stifled and hot and the walls of his room seemed too close for comfort. A noise at his door made him jump and for a split second Harry thought for sure he was going to plummet headfirst out his window but he caught himself on the windowsill at the last moment.

He waited a few moments to catch his breath and slow his pounding heart. When he had calmed himself, Harry climbed the rest of the way up on the windowsill and dangled his feet out. He calculated the distance, slowly stood, than jumped to the large branch swaying gently in the breeze. Harry had always considered himself a rather excellent tree climber. Despite his fall last week, Harry had no qualms about shimmying down the tree trunk. When he touched grass, Harry remained crouched beneath the bushes, listening hard for any noise that would indicate that he had been heard by his guardians.

When there was no stir in the Potter mansion, Harry stood, brushed off his jeans, and ran across the lawns, past the empty stable, and around the back side of the tall fence. The side lawn was covered in trees ranging from birch, spruce, and even several weeping willows. Pushing aside the tears of the willows, Harry caught sight of the gardens and quickened his pace, feeling the rush of the wind against his face and the sun beating on his back. The garden had become his sanctuary.

He liked being alone.

_Just close your eyes_

_The sun is going down_

_You'll be all right_

_No one can hurt you know_

_Come morning light_

_You and I'll be safe and sound..._

* * *

_**Please review! It would mean so much to me and help supply the drive I absolutely need to write the next chapter. I'm open to fair criticism, compliments and ideas! Tell you what you liked and disliked and I will do my best to take it into account.**  
_

_**Until next time and Happy Literacy!  
**_

_**Story2Tell  
**_


	12. Nothing to Remember

**So...hey guys. Yeah, I know...long wait. As I have said before, Military life can become chaotic. And even more than that, if life could get any more ironic, I was diagnosed with epilepsy almost a year ago-hence the sporadic updates and an unwillingness to really write this story anymore since I had Harry himself be with epilepsy. Turns out, I've had seizures in my sleep for a while now, no knew though until my boyfriend and I moved in together. Really freaked him out! But anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm starting to get the zeal I used to have for writing again and I think the updates will start becoming more frequent ENJOY!**_  
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_I'm scared today_

_More than I told you I was yesterday_

_Give me a moment to catch my breath_

_And hold me every second left_

_I can't face this alone_

_I need something to hold_

The sun's rays lay heavy on Harry's face as he swung lazily on the wide tree swing. He nudged the rich earth with his feet and closed his eyes as the flowers hanging from the tree brushed his arms and face with soft kisses. The atmosphere was peaceful and Harry felt as though he could breathe freely. He had never had the freedom to roam before and this garden had become his sanctuary and his hiding place. Here amongst the rich earth, the untamed flowers in brilliant colors, and the gentle bubbling sound of the running creek, Harry felt as though he had found his Neverland and he wished he could stay here forever and not return to the magic or the confusion or the reality that his parents were dead and his only relatives hated his very existence.

Harry wondered if Sirius or Remus had noticed his disappearance and if they had, were they out looking for him? Harry couldn't find it in himself to care if he got into trouble or not. Why were his guardians forcing things onto him that he didn't want? If they cared about him so much than why can't they just leave him alone like he wanted? Harry leaned his head against one of the chains holding the swing and watched the vibrantly colored fish flit just beneath the surface the sparkling pound. An emerald and scarlet frog watched him lazily from a lily pad for several moments before springing from the leaf and into the water.

Harry didn't ever want to leave this place where his parents seemed to dwell just beyond his fingertips. He wished he could somehow reach out and yank down the invisible veil separating realms and join them. If they had died for him, than they must truly love him. _They _wouldn't make him participate in magic if he didn't wish it. Harry sighed heavily and plucked a dangling flower and twirled it between his thumb and index finger. As he did this, the petals started to change color from blue to purple to yellow to orange and then finally a vivid pink. Harry, startled, threw down the flower head in disgust. Why must magic follow him wherever he went?

Somebody giggled.

Harry twisted around in alarm and toppled off the swing and into a bed of purple flowers. A puff of yellow pollen dust burst into the air. Sneezing, Harry sat up and looked around quickly.

Another giggle.

"Who's there?" Harry demanded, sounding braver than he felt. Was someone spying on him?

A high pitched giggle sounded on his left and Harry turned quickly and gasped in shock.

She was a tiny little thing, no bigger than a small leaf. Delicate wings of silver fluttered softly behind her and soft, white curls framed her pointed face. She sat upon one of the purple flowers, letting her pearl sized feet dangle. When she cocked her head at him, she revealed pointed ears.

Harry gaped at the tiny creature, slowly and carefully inching forward for a better look. She smiled then showing all her teeth, including the gap between two front ones and Harry noticed that she had no eyebrows, giving her a rather odd look of perpetual surprise.

"What are you?" Harry asked softly as not to startle her.

She smiled even wider and her wings fluttered gently until she rose up onto her feet and waved.

"Are you a faery? Like from Peter Pan?"

She giggled again and shook her head quickly.

"You're not a faery?"

She nodded her head quickly.

"Oh." Harry furrowed his brow. "Just not like from Peter Pan."

She nodded again and giggled. She pointed a finger at his hand and gestured.

Not ever hesitating, Harry offered just a finger to the little faery. She looked up at him with eyes as blue as sapphires and they glittered in the high sun. She modestly smoothed the petals that made up her crudely made dress, looking somewhat bashful. Then she placed both her tiny hands on Harry's index finger and bent down to kiss him. It was the fleeting feeling of the brush of a butterfly wing and Harry instantly felt a rush of renewal. When she released his finger, Harry held out his palm for her to sit. She obliged and fluttered her way onto his hand. She weighed no heavier than a flower. He stared at her in wonder.

"What's your name?" Harry asked, bringing her close to his face. She reached out her minuscule hand and touched the tip of his nose.

She tilted her head but said nothing.

"Can you not speak?"

She shook her head slowly, looking sad. Then her countenance suddenly brightened. She rose up on her delicate wings and disappeared. A moment later she appeared with a thin twig dripping with dark mud. She began to write onto his hand and Harry had to force himself to stay still from the ticklish feeling.

"Bluebell?" Harry read. "Like the flower?" Bluebell giggled and did a twirl in the air, dropping the stick on the ground, smoothing down her bluish-purple petal dress.

They sat like that for a while, sitting in the soft grass, listening to the babbling brook. Bluebell munched on some sort of tree berry watching as Harry made the flowers surrounding him change colors in rapid succession. When the sun began to set, Harry felt a sudden throb of panic. He stood so fast that Bluebell fell off her flower and into the grass.

"Sorry!" He exclaimed when he saw her raise into the air with her arms crossed, looking indignant. "But I'm so much trouble!"

The funny thing though, when Harry climbed into his window, he realized that nothing in his room had not been touched. Apparently, no one had noticed his absence which made Harry feel somewhat hurt. But why? He thought. It wasn't as if he wanted his guardians to come find him. Harry lay down on his bed and stared at the darkening ceiling with tired eyes, thinking of Bluebell and the garden and wondering if he would be able to pull it off it he tried to live there instead of here. Hobbs made an appearance and leapt lightly onto the bed with Harry and watched with him with large green eyes.

"If I ran away," Harry whispered to the kitten. "Would you want to come with me?"

Hobbs mewed softly and Harry took that as a yes. He gently lifted the kitten and held it to his chest, stroking the soft space between his ears. Hobbs purred and Harry thought.

What would Sirius and Remus do if he ran away? Lock him in his room? In a closet? Maybe even in the basement? Harry shuddered to think of going back to a life like that and he sat the kitten down so he could curl up on his side. He took several deep breaths to stave off the flow of memories threatening to break free.

He wouldn't think about that tonight.

****_Story2Tell****_

Petunia lifted the plate she had been cleaning and eyed it closely. She made sure each pink rose on the dish gleamed and there was not a smudge to be seen. She picked up her dish towel and rubbed the plate down one last time before setting it up in the cupboard. She reached back into the soapy dishwater, peering up under her eyelashes to catch glimpses of the next door neighbors walking back and forth in front of their window in the midst of an argument. Petunia had subtly pushed open the window in front of her sink but it didn't allow Petunia to hear anything. She let herself create what they were saying in her mind, weaving an entire conversation in her head. She was excited for tomorrow so she could gossip about the Hendersons and their failing marriage.

Petunia had finished drying a mug and was holding it in the light to inspect it when she noticed it. Her eyes shot to the counter where a tiny black fleck was running towards her stove. In disgust she grabbed a towel and whipped it out at the offending insect. She quickly disposed of the tea towel in the rubbish can and let out a sigh of relief.

Despicable creatures.

Petunia finished the rest of her dishes, disappointed she wasn't able to hear a single word of her neighbor's argument. Grabbing her soiled towels, she started a wash and wiped cleaned the remnants of water on her counter. She looked out of the front window and she froze when she saw a man standing across the street, wearing what looked to be a long trench coat. The man was motionless in the dying light of a sunset. A dark purple hue had washed over the grasses and road, giving the outside a slightly eerie look.

Petunia nervously eyed the stranger who seemed to be looking right at her before sharply turning her back.

"Vernon!" She called up the staircase. There was no answer. Petunia frowned, her hand resting on the banister for a brief moment before she looked outside again. The man was still there, unmoving. There was hardly any light out now and all that remained was the silhouette of moonlight outlining his figure.

Maybe he was just waiting on a ride, Petunia reasoned.

A sudden tickle on her hand made the horse-faced woman jump. A tiny ant was crawling up her wrist. Petunia momentarily flailed her arm to rid of the bug, her heart jumping within her throat. Even after the bug had gone, Petunia continued to shake her hand in a brimming panic. Twice! Twice she had spot an ant in her house! She was already making mental plans to call the exterminator tomorrow.

Then she looked down and in utter horror saw a trail of aunts leading back into her kitchen. For a moment she couldn't breathe or move, disgust flooding every cell of her being. What was going on? What was happening? Where had these ants come from? Petunia struggled to quell her hyperventilating, fighting the urge to scream and run for her life. With tears in her eyes, she hurried with the vacuum and swept up the offending things all the way back into the kitchen.

Petunia's blood pressure shot for the moon.

An unearthly shriek broke from her throat and continued into an ear-piercing crescendo. They were everywhere! It was a sea of black specks scurrying all over the table, the counters, the sink, and her clean dishes. When her scream broke off, a slew of roaches suddenly burst from under the door to the basement, scuttling across the floor towards her with a hiss of noise. Petunia spun in a wild circle, screaming at the top of lungs, flailing at anything and everything until her throat was hoarse and her head felt as though it would explode.

Petunia wasn't much of a runner but she could have been part of Britain's Olympics with as fast as she ran as she fled the horror scene and upstairs to look for her husband. "VERNON!" She screeched. "VERNON CALL 911!"

She burst through her bedroom door and stopped dead. Her husband was floating through the air in a lazy sort of way. His eyes were wide and unseeing and his mouth stretched in a silent scream. His large body bumped into the wall and the portrait on the wall shuddered before crashing to the floor, landing in a pile of broken glass and splintered wood. She fell forward in an attempt to put back together their family portrait. Her fingers slipped along the glass and blood stained the white rug like tiny rose buds. The little blossoms followed her in a trail as the tall woman stumbled to her son's room; it was too late for her husband and they needed to escape!

She flung open the door and stared wide-eyed at the large pot-bellied pig sitting in the middle of the room, wearing Dudley's shirt and shorts. An odd tuft of blond hair sprouted from between the pig's ears. When the thing caught sight of her, it let out a terrible squeal and charged towards her.

Petunia screamed so loud that her ears popped and she saw spots. The room spun violently around her. For a moment, she was able to stumble back from the creature that used to be her son but when the pig slammed into her knees, Petunia let go of all sanity and the floor rushed to greet her and she welcomed the darkness.

***Story2Tell***

Remus quietly opened the front door to the Potter manor, and hung his trench coat on a nearby hook on the wall. He brushed off his pants and straightened the collar of his shirt. He thought about pulling out his wand for some light but decided against it. Stealth was what he needed right now. Nor Sirius or Harry knew that he left after cleaning up supper that night. He had told them that he wanted to hit the sack early when in reality he had taken a port key to the states to straighten a few "bumps". It was rather impulsive of him, really. It had been a long time since he had let anger rule his decisions. He fought so hard against the wolf that in the end, he was more docile than most "normal" wizards and witches. But the rage burning through him had nothing to do with the wolf—it was pure _him_ wanting to give those pathetic people a taste of fear and pain. It was only a mere fraction of what his charge had suffered but the satisfaction it gave Remus for the tad bit he had started was sweet and rewarding.

He felt his way through the entryway and through dining room towards the staircase, letting the silver moonlight guide his way. His guilty pleasure left him feeling a lot less tense and somewhat drained. He almost felt like whistling. Who knew that revenge could be so sweet? And this was just the beginning for the Dursleys. Once Sirius had found out what he had done, the man will take the cue and run headlong into terrorizing Harry's relatives within an inch of their life.

Speaking of his charge…

"Harry?" Remus couldn't contain the astonishment that leaked out with his voice. He quickly tried to gather himself, feeling as though he had been caught red-handed. "What on earth are you doing down here? Do you know what time it is?"

Harry's thin silhouette shifted slightly, outlined faintly by a glittering crescent moon. But Remus received no response from him. Only silence. He felt a growing unease in the pit of his stomach.

"Are you ill? Or sleep walking?"

Still nothing. Just a tense silence.

"Harry?" Remus lowered his voice to a gentle whisper. "Is everything all right?"

Remus ignited his wand; the faint white light illuminated Harry's hunched form. At the sudden light, he flinched but did nothing else but remained leaning against the railing with his forehead resting on the wood.

Remus never expected to find Harry down here, sitting on the last stair of the winding staircase, his arm twisted in the banister poles. It was four in the morning when Remus had port keyed back outside the gates of the Potter manor and to find the boy sitting here in the dark at such an ungodly hour left Remus stumped.

A voice in his head told him to just leave Harry be, but the urging of his heart told him to stay, to see if his charge would say anything, do anything. Carefully, Remus lowered himself on the step beside him. He wouldn't let Harry sink into isolation. He knew, probably better than anybody, what kind of company loneliness could be—a dreadful one. Remus wouldn't leave him alone in the darkness, even if it meant sitting silently with no words between them.

Harry seemed intent on that direction and he didn't utter a single sound for what seemed like a very long time. Remus sat patiently with his charge, though there was a spot in his chest that hurt for Harry. He wished the boy would say something, anything so that Remus could figure out how to help him begin to heal. Several times he opened his mouth to speak but closed his lips firmly each time. What words would seem acceptable to say? Would he sound like he was nagging instead of loving? Would it be insensitive if he seemed to assume? Would Remus come across as just one more adult to fail in Harry's life?

Then suddenly: "I'm sorry."

Remus was taken about by the unanticipated apology. "What for?" he implored, baffled.

"That you had to see all that." Harry answered simply, like there was nothing that important to what he was talking about.

"It's not you who should be sorry," Remus reprimanded, barely managing to not clench his teeth.

Harry sighed beside him, a sound that said he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "You were there weren't you?"

Remus started. "How did you know?"

There wasn't answer to that. Instead: "What did you do to them?"

"Nothing less than they deserved." Remus answered firmly, though on the inside he was nervous of how Harry would react for Remus going behind his back.

To Remus' surprise Harry didn't protest, instead he said: "Did you kill them?" Remus was taken aback by the uncaring way Harry asked this question. For a moment, Remus fumbled for words, feeling caught off guard.

Finally: "No," he breathed out. "I didn't."

"Oh."

Remus leaned his shoulder heavily on the wall next to him, gripping the edge of the stair he sat on for a second. "Would you have rather me to?"

For several moments, there was nothing but the sound of silence stretching in between them. It took many minutes before Remus realized that Harry wasn't going to answer anytime soon—if at all. So Remus decided to redirect the conversation.

"Look Harry, I'm not condoning your behavior from earlier, but I think I should apologize for the way I reacted. I should not have sent you to your room with no dinner."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it."

Remus clenched his fists to curb the acidic anger that shot up through him. Damn those Dursleys! "That's the point, Harry. I'm doing the same thing your relatives did and I come across as a hypocrite."

The young teen turned his head fully to look at Remus and even in the darkness, his eyes glittered like emeralds. The werewolf could see the innocence and the agony twisting behind those priceless jewels. Harry then turned away quickly. "It's okay." He said quickly, sounding uncomfortable.

Remus touched his charge's shoulder gently. Harry flinched. "No, Harry. It's not. And I'm sorry."

Harry nodded once before shedding away from Remus' touch. "It's okay." He repeated. "I'm used to it."

Remus held back a noise of frustration but made no further comment about the situation. How would he make Harry understand that withholding food from a child was not a suitable punishment when all of his short existence he had been taught that no food was the norm? In an attempt to get Harry talking again, he asked: "You never did tell me what you're doing out of bed at this hour, young man?"

Harry shrugged but offered no other explanation.

Remus gave up. He slumped back against the staircase, dragging his hands down the sides of his face making himself looking rather ghoulish. What was he supposed to do when everything he tried fell short like a faulty fuse? Harry's invisible wall seemed impenetrable. Remus had no idea how to break through. The boy seemed to have carefully built his protection brick by unbreakable brick—while his goal had been to keep people out, he also succeeded in keeping his own self locked in…and Remus simply could not find the key.

"Harry, please…"

"Remus, stop," Harry stood up suddenly, his face in a dark scowl. "Why do you keep pushing things on me? Why do you keep trying to make me talk about things that I don't want to talk about?" he demanded in a sputter. His voice echoed in the empty stairway.

"Harry," Remus spoke in a calming voice.

"No, Remus!" the boy interrupted, his hands balled into fists. "Why can't you guys just leave me alone? I'm good at being alone! Just…just leave me _alone_…" as sudden as his burst of temperament was, a strange calmness came over him next and Harry slumped back down onto the stairs, his head bowed. As though he too had given up.

Remus twisted his body to fully face his charge; his heart had sunk lower and lower with each word of Harry's little speech. He used two fingers to tilt Harry's face up then Remus gently tapped the boy on his nose with a fond smile. "Don't say that," he said gently. "You don't have to be alone anymore. You have Sirius and the Weasleys and Hedwig…"

"And Pipp and Hobbs?" Harry added, his bright green eyes looking at Remus with a glimmer of fragile trust.

"Yes," Remus chuckled. "And don't forget me."

Harry smiled briefly but then his smile dropped from his face and his shoulders drooped noticeably.

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry didn't raise his eyes back up. He studied his hands instead, black wisps of hair falling over his eyes. Remus brushed them away gently and decided to get to the root of the problem. "Tell me, Harry, why do you hate magic so much? Why don't you want to learn it?"

Remus was sure Harry wasn't going to answer and he was about to drop his hand when his charge drew in a deep breath and raised his face.

"Because magic never let me die."

Whatever Remus was expecting Harry to say, it wasn't that. Remus gasped and froze, feeling the blood in his veins turn to ice, unsure of what Harry meant and knowing the severity of the words the young teen just uttered. "What on earth on you saying, Harry?" he asked breathlessly, terrified that Harry was trying to tell him that he was attempting to end his own life.

When Harry next spoke, his words came out as broken and pain-filled syllables. "Once…" Harry drew in several halting breaths. "Once my uncle came down to the basement…he only came when he wanted to teach me-teach me a lesson…but this time…he took a kitchen knife…he took this-this knife...and—and…" Harry didn't have to finish for Remus to know what happened next.

Harry released a series of great, shuddering gasps that shook his thin frame. Remus, with a pounding heart and a pale face, pulled Harry close to his chest in an attempt to protect him from such a vicious past. It was his grasp on Harry and their proximity that kept the wolf from breaking free in a rush of rage. He held on tight to the boy, wishing he could be a shield from all the horrible things that life seemed to throw at him. Remus felt Harry's heaving chest against his and he whispered nonsensical words to the boy, trying to calm him down. Though Harry wasn't crying but doing everything in his power to hold back his emotions, his pain, his fear—just as he had been taught all those years. Something that no child should ever be conditioned to do.

What was Remus to say to such a story? It'll be all right? That things always work out for the better? Or that everything happens for reason? What reason is there for a man to stab a child? To beat, starve, humiliate, and emotionally and mentally scar such an innocent creature? But that was the point—there was no reason to this insanity, just pure ignorance.

Remus wasn't sure how long they sat there before Harry began to talk again. His voice was so soft, it was barely a whisper. "Those times…when it was really bad…I was always almost, well, _relieved. _I would think that this would be the last time…that I wouldn't have to go through this anymore…but my magic…it would always heal me…no matter how bad off I was. And I hated it. _I hated it_. Why didn't it just let me die, Remus? If my magic is so powerful, why didn't it realize that if I was healed, I would just go through that all over again? But every time…every time I woke up…still alive…and that made my uncle just all the more angry…"

"I don't know, Harry," Remus whispered into Harry's hair, though he was talking to himself more than to the boy. "I don't know." As he held the trembling child to him, Remus felt as though he had finally punched through one of the bricks making up Harry's defensive wall and was able to peer through the hole and catch a glimpse of Harry's life. Maybe this was the first step—maybe it would only go brick by brick but Remus knew for sure that one day Harry might just be all right—not exactly whole but healed and living instead of surviving.

He could only hope.

***_Story2Tell_***

Harry wandered down the staircase late the next morning, bleary eyed, his hair sticking in every direction. But he felt considerably lighter then he had felt in a long time. Last night had been draining and he feared that maybe Remus would act different around him. Telling his guardian those things made Harry feel uncomfortably vulnerable when he had worked so hard not to be. But Remus was nowhere in sight and Sirius had his back turned as he fiddled with the stove.

"Sirius," Harry began, snatching a strip of bacon off the plate. He nibbled one corner.

Sirius turned around, startled. "Oh wotcher, Harry!" he laughed. "Didn't hear you come in." The young man set down a plate in front of Harry that was heaped with eggs and toast. "Help yourself to some more bacon and stop eating like a mouse." He smiled and sat down across from his godson.

Harry poked his eggs with a fork and frowned in thought. Across from him, Sirius cocked his head.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, kiddo?"

Harry raised his eyes to his guardian and hesitated a moment before speaking, "Do you believe in faeries?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, "Faeries? Hmm…I've never actually seen one but I knew a few people who have claimed to have caught a glimpse of them. If there really are faeries, they lead very elusive lives for even in books there are only drawings of them—no actual pictures."

"Oh," Harry took a bite of eggs and chewed slowly, thinking about what Sirius had said and what it meant for him and Bluebell.

"Why?" Sirius asked with a teasing smile, "Did you make friends with one?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably and shrugged, popping another forkful of eggs into his mouth. Sirius eyed him for a couple minutes before his eyes widened considerably.

"You've met one, haven't you?" Sirius demanded.

"Well…"

"You did, didn't you!" his guardian exclaimed with a disbelieving laugh. Before Harry could counter this though, Remus stepped in the room, looking as though he had just woken up.

"What are you two on about?" Remus interrupted as he joined them at the dining table, helping himself to some breakfast. Harry felt his body immediately tense up. He kept his eyes fixed on his plate, feeling a flush of embarrassment blossom on his cheeks.

"I think Harry here is attempting to tell me that he has made friends with a _faery_." Sirius announced in a loud voice that made Harry cringe.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Remus straighten with interest.

"Is that true, Harry?" Remus asked in barely contained excitement. "Did you really meet a faery?"

Sighing in defeat, Harry looked up again and nodded slowly, looking from one guardian to the other.

"What was it like?" Sirius asked.

"Did it actually interact with you?" Remus questioned at the same time.

Harry shrugged. "She. Not it." Was the only information he offered.

"Of course," Remus said in a distant sort of voice that suggested his mind was off in a place of deep thought. "She."

"Did she speak to you at all?" Sirius asked. "Like, tell you 'secrets of the earth'."

Harry quirked his brow. "Secrets of the earth?" he echoed in slight amusement. "She couldn't even speak to me. She wrote her name on my hand."

"It told you it's name?" Sirius looked surprised.

"She," Harry corrected again. "Not it."

"Right then, sorry."

"Bluebell."

"Gesundeheit," said Sirius.

"No," Harry snapped. "Her name is Bluebell. Like the flower."

"Oh, sorry…" Sirius smiled at Harry fondly. "My apologies."

Remus leaned forward in his chair, intent, "Do you think it would be possible if you could bring her here so I would be able to see her?"

Harry shrugged.

A look of disappointment crossed over the werewolf's face. They sat in a quiet lull with the only noise being the scrapping of forks against their plates. A sudden hoot at the window made Harry turn in surprise. "Is that an owl?" he asked.

"Not just any owl," said Sirius as he stood up and moved towards the window. "That's a Hogwarts' school owl."

Harry's heart leapt for his throat as Sirius took the envelope from the owl and turn to place it in front of Harry.

Harry stared wide eyed down at the thick envelope made of yellowed parchment.

Mr. H. Potter

The Table in the Kitchen, 1st floor

Potter Mansion

Aberdeen, Britain

"Go ahead, Harry," Remus urged. "Open it." Harry looked up at his guardians to see them both grinning.

Harry slowly obliged them.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

It read. Harry swallowed hard, glanced up briefly than looked back down at the letter.

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_ Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_ Yours sincerely,_

_ Minerva McGonagall,_

_ Deputy Headmistress._

Harry found it suddenly hard to breathe. He stared at the letter for what seemed like years, lost all sense of time until he heard someone clearing their throat and Harry looked up suddenly with wide eyes. Sirius and Remus seemed to be waiting for Harry to speak but all words that Harry considered saying seemed lodged in his throat. He gripped the edge of the table with both hands, a wave of nausea overcame him and a tremor snaked up his spine. Everything seemed so vividly real all of a sudden.

It was really happening.

A sudden hissing sound made Harry look back down and saw the letter suddenly caught on fire and curling with blackening edges. He stood up so fast that his chair fell over. Sirius' and Remus' smile had disappeared and they were staring at him with wide eyes.

Harry fumbled with words, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "I-I didn't mean—I mean—it's just…" his face suddenly felt hot and fast-coming tears were blurring his vision. The letter had completely burned out along with the list of supplies Harry was supposedly meant to purchase. Sirius and Remus still hadn't moved from their spots; they were staring at him with eyes aghast. Harry didn't know what else to do.

So he ran.

_I've spent my life becoming invisible_

_It's hard to maintain_

_And it's hard to get by_

_Out in the cold; fight or flight setting in_

_I had no introduction_

_I just breathe it in like the air_

_And there's nothing to remember_

**So ****did you guys think? Please tell me in a review! Reviews help me get going and I am completely open to any ideas you guys have or suggestions...they actually really help me out! So please tell me what you liked, disliked, loved, or hated.**_  
_

**Until next time and Happy Literacy,  
**

**Story2Tell  
**


	13. I Made a Mistake

**Yes, yes, I know—it's been a while. And as I've said before, military life is crazy and I've been going through a lot of medical stuff. So please enjoy!**

* * *

_I'm miles from where you are_

_I lay down on the cold ground _

_And I pray that something picks me up_

_And sets me down in your warm arms_

Severus Snape came to the abrupt awareness that he was savagely gripping both armrests with his hands. He immediately loosened his grip and felt ashamed that had let his apprehension show through his body.

Albus Dumbledore studied him over steepled fingers, his piercing blue eyes unreadable behind half-moon glasses. Severus was unable to penetrate the wall protecting the Headmaster's mind.

"Do you know why I've asked you here, Severus?" Albus asked in a somewhat cheerful voice that made Severus scowl.

"No doubt it has something to do with that Potter brat," Severus sneered, crossing his arms to hide the slight tremors in his hands.

"You were too severe with him," Dumbledore chided gently.

"Was I?" Severus huffed a humorless laugh. "I was under the impression that I was to do 'whatever it takes'." The potion's master snapped.

"I didn't say to be harsh, Severus."

Snape glared darkly at the old wizard but inwardly he felt a spark of fear. He had been waiting for this moment for a whole week and a half—waiting for Albus Dumbledore to dish out the scolding he knew he deserved but didn't want to receive. There were few things in life that frightened Severus though he would never admit to be frightened of anything if someone asked. First and foremost without a doubt, the Dark Lord was definitely on the top of his list. Just the thought of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named made his dark mark twinge nastily. It wasn't necessarily the actual man, scared him, if you could call_ him_ man at all, but the promise of pain and death that scented the air every time Severus was called by his mark.

Severus was terrified of pain—though of course he would never admit it if he was at his dying breath. Pain made you act out in the most rawest of forms and acting out of pain made others look down upon you. Severus loathed being looked down upon.

That's perhaps why the second thing on Severus' list of things of he feared, was his very own father. Though the man had died many years ago, Severus still spent many sleepless nights tossing and turning from nightmares of past child horrors filled with whipping belts and the smell of stale beer. With his father was also the association of pain—not love or comfort or fond memories of fun times. Just pain. Pain and beer.

Severus' scowl grew darker.

The last thing that Severus feared was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. But he feared this man for a different reason other than pain though he was sure the old man could strike him down in a moment's notice if he so deemed necessary. It wasn't the pain but the fear of disappointing the one of two people who had ever truly cared about him. He had already completely ruined the first person who showed him nothing but kindness since day one. Albus was the last person he had left and every time Severus stepped into the Headmaster's office, he was terrified he was going to disappoint his elder…_again._

But Severus would never, _ever,_ admit to any of these things, even under risk of torture. It was just a sign of weakness. And weakness was for lesser men then he.

"You told me to do whatever it takes," Severus repeated through gritted teeth before meeting the headmaster's eyes with his dark ones.

Dumbledore studied him without speaking. His half-moon glasses caught the light coming through the window and glinted.

"You told me to do _whatever_ it takes," Severus repeated louder this time, standing up in a defensive posture. "And I did. I got the boy to demonstrate some of his capabilities."

"Sit down, my boy," Dumbledore implored softly. "Please."

Though the old man had asked nicely, Severus knew it was nowhere near a suggestion. He sat down and crossed his arms with a brooding look on his face.

"I don't recall asking you to traumatize him," Albus continued in an airy voice.

Severus huffed out a laugh that was devoid of humor. "You think _I _traumatized him?" the Potion's Master was full of disbelief. "I think we can both agree on the fact that that boy is _beyond_ traumatized and not be the likes of _me_."

Again, Albus was silent. There was nothing but those blue eyes that searched him and the frown that deepened the wrinkles on his face.

Severus waited with an eyebrow raised, unwilling to so easily give in. His pride wouldn't let him.

Finally: "You were too callous." Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "You should be grateful that Harry didn't inform either of his guardians. I do not lie when I say that you would most likely be in grave peril if they knew—especially from Sirius."

Severus curled his hands into fists, fighting down the anger that swelled within his chest. "Well, you let him get away with trying to kill me last time, what's another try going to hurt?" he spoke in words dripping in spite and unconcealed hatred.

Dumbledore sighed.

"I did what had to be done." Severus summed up, hiding the flash of guilt that he felt.

The Headmaster saw it anyways. "Please try a different approach next time, Severus, for all our sakes."

Snape gave the old man a look of utter disbelief. "You are joking, are you not?" when he received no answer, he continued in a sharp voice, "You want me to go on with tutoring Potter? That boy is damaged; he's not safe to come to Hogwarts for term so soon. His magic is beyond his years and uncontrollable."

"Precisely why we need to continue with the tutoring. Harry needs to learn to control his spurts of magic and I believe you are the one to do it. Besides, I think it is I who will decide what is best for Harry at the moment."

Severus Snape sat back in speechless awe for several moments, unwilling to believe what Albus Dumbledore had just uttered. He was quick to find his voice again though. "_You _decide what's best? Does Lupin and Black know this? What about Potter—I don't really think he can agree with you saying that his relatives were for his best?"

Albus sighed and wilted slightly. "I did not know that Lily's sister and brother-in-law were capable of physically harming Harry. I was sure that Petunia would love Harry like she loved her sister and that love would transfer to her nephew."

"But Petunia didn't love Lily! She hated Lily for what she was!" Severus spouted. "You knew that!"

"Yes, but I thought that in light Lily's death, Petunia would be able to move beyond prejudice and love Harry as one of her own. I was only trying to protect the poor boy."

Severus stared at his former Headmaster, feeling his throat was too dry. The potion's master had always considered himself a very perceptive person and that perception was kicking into high gear and it wasn't a pleasant realization. "You knew, didn't you?" he spoke in a soft voice, again feeling the flood of disbelief now tinged with horror.

Albus said nothing. Severus took this as a yes.

"You knew that Potter was in the States all this time—and not dead…" Severus let all the implications settle, trying to process this information as quickly as he could. His gut twisted. "Why, Albus?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

"I was trying to protect, Harry." Professor Dumbledore stated simply though his eyes appeared somewhat anguished.

"Protect Harry?" Severus repeated slowly. "But why? Why did you prevent him from coming to Hogwarts for his first year? You knew where he was all along…but you did nothing to retrieve him…" the young man shook his head slowly, his dark eyes wide. He just couldn't make sense of it at all.

Dumbledore seemed to wilt even more and for the first time he broke his gaze with Severus. "I thought…I thought keeping him barred from the magical world as long as possible would protect him from Voldemort and give him a chance at a normal life before he was brought in to all this, before he had to suffer with the prophecy hanging over his head. I thought keeping him out of it all would keep him safer for longer."

_Meddlesome fool!_ Severus inwardly yelled. "Didn't you see Potter's body? In what fucked up world is that supposed to be normal? Where in this entire godforsaken universe is it considered normal to strip a child bloody raw?"

"I made a mistake, Severus. I was only trying to keep his innocence. I was only trying to protect him from Voldemort."

"Yet you allowed Potter to be beaten and starved and locked up—I know of several Death Eaters who would have treated Potter better than that!"

Albus looked down at his desk but Severus didn't miss the fact that his eyes were shining with moisture. "I made a mistake."

Nobody likes bad news. It's never nice to be handed a piece of information that will ruin your day. Sadly, we all are told things we'd rather not hear at some point in our lives. You can try to hide from bad news, but it always finds you. Like a starving monkey who knows you possess the last banana on Earth, bad news can cling to you and scream incessantly. Even if the bad news involves someone you don't really care about, there's still that little bit in the pit of your stomach that wishes you hadn't heard it.

That was exactly how Severus Snape felt. Even though he couldn't care less for James Potter's spawn but Harry Potter will still a child. A child that was horribly abused for years because some old fool decided he would be safe far out of the picture from everyone else.

Severus stared, his mouth hanging open. It took a lot for the young man to lose his cool and collect demeanor. He sucked in a quick breath, his dark eyes wide. "Are you going to tell Lupin and Black this little tidbit of information? Do you realize what their reaction would be? And Potter—"

"I haven't decided if relaying the fact that I knew is pertinent or not." Albus stated flatly, removing his glasses to rub his face tiredly.

"You can't do that, Albus!" Severus accused in a loud voice. "You can't just dictate what people do and do not know—you'll lose everyone's trust!"

"I am human, Severus. I made a mistake."

Severus drew in a deep breath, "I don't think Potter will view this as a simple mistake."

"I know, my boy. I know."

_***Sirius_

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sirius."

Sirius let out an annoyed huff. He slumped back against the cushions. It had been a rough couple days. Ever since the Hogwarts let had come, Harry had refused to leave his bedroom and had spoken nary a word to either man. The boy had refused any and all suggestions and offers to talk about anything. Remus had offered to move the piano into the sitting room attached to Harry's bedroom in which the boy had given a single nod but that was the only communication he had offered. Now, up above, piano sounds came through the ceiling almost nonstop. Sirius only wanted to attempt to take his godson out for the day and maybe rebuild some bridges.

Remus looked up from turning his violin and gave Sirius a stern once over. "Need I remind you the fiasco that took place last time?"

A spike of guilt and pain blossomed in his chest as Sirius took a moment to think about the trip Harry and Remus had taken to the muggle book store just outside Diagon Alley. Sirius swallowed hard and steered his thoughts elsewhere. "It will be different; I'll be taking him to central muggle London, far from all magical stuff."

Remus let out a sharp sigh and ran his bow along the violin's strings once. He pulled a face. "Still sour," he grumped.

"Why don't you just use magic?" asked Sirius.

"Because using magic takes away the true understanding of an instrument that you gain from doing it yourself," Remus replied in a haughty sort of manner.

"Yeah, whatever," Sirius said, toying with his empty firewhiskey bottle. For a moment they were silent. Sirius aimed the bottle at the rubbish bin in the corner and tossed it. It landed in the bin with a loud _clank!_ and Sirius threw his arms up in victory. "Fifty points to Gryffindor!" he hollered causing the werewolf to wince in annoyance. Grinning, Sirius summoned another bottle of firewhiskey and popped the cap off.

"Want some?" he offered his friend.

Remus shook his head with a curt, "I'm busy," before smoothly running his bow over the strings again. He beamed like a proud sunflower. "Got it!"

Sirius rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, relishing the burning sensation. "You need a life," Sirius speculated. Remus opened his mouth to protest but Sirius interrupted. "No actually what you really need is a woman—what happened to that little bird you met at the book store?" he asked.

Remus' face, neck, and ears turned a blazing red in the matter of an instant.

Sirius grinned widely. "You fancy her, don't you?" the animagus guffawed.

"Why are you tormenting me?" Remus demanded, his face still as red as the color of Gryffindor.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot, you prick; I can't say I'm surprised though—she's awful pleasing to the eyes if you know what I mean. And, well, you do."

Remus looked as though he was waging a war within for several moments before he snatched the glass right out of Sirius' hand and downed the firewhiskey in one gulp.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Easy there, killer. We both know you're worse at holding your liquor than a ninety stone, thirteen-year old girl."

Remus gave him a sour look. "Is your sole purpose in life to torture me to the brink of insanity?"

"No," Sirius answered. "But it's close."

Remus rolled his eyes and chose not to comment.

"And I digress…" Sirius _accio-ed _another firewhiskey and popped the cap off, letting it clatter to the floor as he took a swig. "I still want to take Harry out—I hate this silence, it's driving me nuts. Do you ever think that maybe we might give him too much power?"

"Maybe," said Remus with a slight frown. "But I don't think it takes a genius to figure that Harry spent his life feeling pretty powerless. Maybe, at least for a while, it's okay to let Harry have more power then he should. He should be able to feel in control for once in his life."

The conversation had taken a dark turn. Sirius frowned deeply and leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees in one swift motion. The firewhiskey sloshed in the bottle and over the lip, splashing over his pants. "Shit," he muttered, wiping off the material with his free hand.

Remus set aside his violin and stretched his arms above his head, his face pensive. "Maybe we should make a deal with him, show if he'll work with us, we'll work with him."

"What kind of deal?"

"I don't know…I just think his best bet would be for him to give Hogwarts a chance at least for a while. Forcing him wouldn't do any good—we just…got to talk him into it."

Sirius squinted his eyes and set his bottle down on the floor. "Is it bad that two full-grown men can't handle a scrawny thirteen-year-old boy?"

"Perhaps, but Harry is not just any thirteen-year-old boy."

"I'll drink to that," Sirius stated, picking his firewhiskey back up and taking a deep drink from it.

Remus shook his head. "You're such a drunk."

"Says the man who almost offed himself from over-dosage of painkiller potions," said Sirius with raised eyebrows.

Remus flushed pink. "It wasn't intentional. I didn't know taking too many pain relieving potions would burn a hole through my stomach and eat away at my internal organs." The werewolf shuddered at the thought and Sirius couldn't help but agree with him.

They had been fourteen then and Remus and Sirius had just arrived from Hogwarts to spend a month out of the summer at the Potter mansion. It was two days after a full moon and Remus had shattered his right shoulder and arm from a severe fall down the staircase in the shrieking shack. Though Remus would never admit to it, he was still in a tremendous amount of pain even after being healed by the medi-witch.

Madame Pomphrey had issued Remus a store of pain relief potions and had told him how to administer them properly. Sirius wasn't sure if Remus hadn't been listening or if the young werewolf had been in so much pain that he had tossed aside common sense in the hopes of relieving some of his pain. The boy had downed two doses in one go without a second thought and then two more fifteen minutes later.

Sirius and James had found Remus on the floor of the sitting room with his eyes rolled back into his head, blood coming out of his nose, mouth, and ears; his skin was a deathly white and his lips tinged blue.

_"Remus!" James screamed, and being the quick thinker that he was, leapt into action. He ran to the fireplace and disappeared with a flash of green flame._

_ But Sirius couldn't move. He stood rooted to the spot by the swinging door, eyes wide and chest heaving as he stared at his best friend. His body was shaking so hard he couldn't hold his head right. He too terrified to move, afraid that if he moved forward to kneel by his friend, he would find no pulse and the fact that his friend looked dead would become a reality. And that couldn't be a reality because best friends are supposed to live forever. Best friends just don't die._

"You're lucky James' dad was a healer." Sirius pointed out, taking a drink from his bottle in an attempt to wash away the sudden memory.

"Yeah," Remus let out a single laugh. "Lucky. Merlin, I was an idiot."

"I can agree with that."

"Thanks, Sirius. That means a lot."

"No problem."

Both men smiled at each other in conspiratorial humor. Sirius thought it was good to know what some things never changed.

_***Harry_

Harry stepped into the kitchen and froze in surprise to see both Sirius and Remus sitting at the kitchen table. They hadn't noticed him yet and were laughing about something or another. Harry took an instinctive step back and flattened himself against the wall and out of their sight, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He hadn't expected to see his guardians out of bed so late. He had deliberately waited till the late hours of the night to sneak out for a snack just so he wouldn't have to face the two men.

Harry was embarrassed of his reaction from receiving a Hogwarts letter. It wasn't that he didn't want to learn magic per say, it was just that getting that letter made everything too real for him. Yes, just the thought of magic made him terrified but if his magic is as uncontrollable as everyone was saying, he wanted to learn because he didn't want to hurt anyone ever again. But what if he had showed up at Hogwarts and suddenly couldn't do magic? What if he _could_ do magic but he ended up hurting someone in a rush of emotion? Would he be carted off to some sort of wizarding jail? Or executed? He wasn't sure of the laws of the magical world but being able to do magic must mean there should be stricter laws for doing wrong things.

And what if he wasn't smart enough to learn all the things needed to be a wizard? He had grown up with the Dursleys' telling him how stupid he was and without fully realizing it, Harry had started to believe it. He was scared that Sirius and Remus would become ashamed and embarrassed to have him as their charge and pull him out of Hogwarts and ship him back to the Dursleys.

Harry would rather die than go back there.

Giving up on the idea of a snack, Harry eased himself off the wall and took a careful step forward.

_Oomph! _

He collided with a much bigger someone. He released a strangled yelp and flailed wildly, his instinct to fight kicking into full gear.

"Whoa, kiddo!" a familiar voice spoke above him. A pair of arms wrapped around Harry's body and restrained him. "You're fine! You're fine! Calm down!"

Harry stilled his movement but couldn't still his frantic breathing or uncontrollable shaking.

"_Shhh_…" Sirius soothed gently. "You're fine. It's just me. It's just Sirius."

Harry looked up briefly and saw Sirius looking down on him in concern and shock. The man carefully brought Harry in closer and held his godson's head against his chest. Harry could hear the steady thump of his godfather's heartbeat within his chest. It calmed him slightly and Harry relaxed into Sirius' arms. It was the first time they had had contact in several days and instead of the embarrassment and shame that Harry had been feeling, instant relief flooded him. It was like he had been holding his breath for too long and finally broke the surface. The air was sweet and life-giving.

Without even realizing it, Harry returned the hug and held on tight. He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered: "I'm sorry."

"I know," murmured Sirius. "I know."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry sat at the kitchen table with a mug of steaming hot cocoa. Remus sat across from him with a mug of his own and Sirius poured himself a cup of tea before taking a seat next to Harry.

"Nice to see you among the living again, kiddo," Sirius remarked with a half-smile before taking a sip of his tea. He sputtered. "Merlin's beard that's hot!"

Remus chuckled and Harry offered a weak smile.

"You know, Sirius," said Remus. "Tea is usually hot when you drink it. Well, unless you're a Yankee."

Harry's godfather pulled a face at the mention of ice tea.

Harry ran a finger along the rim of his mug and frowned in thought. The three sat in a slightly awkward silence for several minutes before Remus cleared his throat. Harry looked up from beneath his eyelashes, unwilling to raise his head just yet.

"Harry," Remus began with an intent but gentle expression. _Uh-oh_, thought Harry. It looked as though he was in for a lecture. "Sirius and I don't want to force you to do anything that you feel that you are not ready to do. And if we have pushed you too hard this past month, I apologize. We only want what's best for you; you have to _believe_ that, Harry. But we're just a couple of old bachelors who barely know a thing about raising children so you need to talk to us and tell us when you feel we are doing things wrong because how else will we know?"

Harry swallowed hard against a sudden lump that had forced in his throat. He blinked quickly. So, this wasn't a lecture. Harry sighed out a heavy breath.

Remus leaned forward; his gaze from Harry didn't waver. "And don't think, Harry, that if you speak up for yourself that we will automatically go into a blind rage and send you back to your relatives. This is your home now and we care about you and love you and real families don't send their loved ones out into the cold if a disagreement arises."

Harry felt his lower lip tremble slightly. He made it look as though he was scratching his cheek when really he was trying to secretly swipe at the moisture gathering at his eyes. Merlin, he was such a girl! Remus had hit his one of his fears smack on the nose and for Harry, it was like someone had lifted one of the many bricks stacked on his chest and he could breathe just a little bit better.

Harry drew a deep, wavering breath and finally raised his head. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse: "I mean, I _want _to go to Hogwarts," he said in a shy whisper. "It's…just…" Harry couldn't find the words and he dropped his head again, feeling his face flush red.

"I see." Remus said gently. "How about this, Harry: why don't we make a deal?"

Harry furrowed his brow and glanced up. "What?"

"A deal." Remus affirmed. "How about you agree to attend Hogwarts for the first semester. At any time, if it becomes too much, you can come straight home no questions asked. And when you come home for the holidays, we can reevaluate the situation and decide if you want to continue."

"That sounds like a good deal," Sirius interjected for the first time. He was smiling. "I think, in the long run, Hogwarts will be an amazing experience if you just allow yourself to relax just a little bit. And like Remus said, you can come home at any time and we will not be mad, we will not judge and you will _not _be sent back to those bloody relatives of yours."

Another brick was lifted from Harry's chest. He raised his head and looked at Sirius and then at Remus. They were really trying to help him, Harry thought. Both of his hands were clenching his mug when he decided to speak: "Ok."

Both Sirius and Remus looked surprised, as if they were expecting a verbal fight from Harry.

"Really?" asked Sirius.

Harry nodded slowly. "And…and I can come home whenever I want?"

"Yes," Remus stated firmly. "We just want you to give Hogwarts a chance. Nothing more."

Harry nodded again, trying to appear braver then he felt. "Ok."

"Ok." Remus repeated, a smile spreading across his scarred, young face.

"Ok," finished Sirius, putting his arm around Harry. "You won't regret it, kiddo."

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly and drew in a deep breath. _I hope not._ He thought.

Suddenly, a loud _WHOOSH! _came from the sitting room. Both Remus and Sirius shot out of their seats with wands in hand. Harry looked at them both in alarm, feeling the sudden shift of mood in the atmosphere.

"Stay here, Harry," Remus ordered in a tone much different than several minutes ago.

But before they could move, a tall figure appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

"_Snivellus_!" Sirius spat angrily, moving his body so that he completely blocked Harry from view.

"Heel, dog," Snape sneered. "I'm not here to steal your bone."

"What a pleasant surprise, Severus," Remus said politely, though his face conveyed that this surprise was anything but pleasant. "Did Albus send you?"

"Indeed, wolf," the potion's master spoke in a haughty voice. "However, I came here on my own accord. Actually, I would prefer it if you kept this meeting to ourselves."

Harry saw Remus and Sirius exchange glances.

"Oh, really?" Sirius' hand tightened on his wand. "Why is that?"

Snape looked around once. "Without Potter here. I think there is something imperative that you two animals need to know and without the boy's prying ears."

Harry sat in the heavy silence that followed, staring first at the back of Sirius then a Remus and around Sirius to his Professor. Everyone was tense and the silence that hung in the air was loud. "It's okay, Sirius," Harry said suddenly, not wanting to be the center of a fight if Sirius refused Snape's request out of spite. "I can go back upstairs. I'm tired."

Another hard silence. Then:

"Go on then, kiddo," Sirius said slowly while exchanging another glance with Remus.

Harry pushed his hot cocoa away untouched and left through the second door in the kitchen. He itched to hear what the conversation was and why he wasn't able to stay but didn't want to push his luck after all Remus and Sirius had done for him that night.

_***Remus_

"That can't be true," Remus said breathlessly, feeling his stomach sinking lower and lower. He looked to his right to see Sirius frozen in his seat, his face white and tight-lipped with fury. His fists were trembling.

"I assure you, werewolf, it's true," Snape snapped sharply. "The meddlesome coot has known all along where the Potter brat has been. It is obviously a given that he didn't know the circumstances but he knew Potter's location since the beginning."

Remus felt lightheaded. He swallowed hard several times before leaning forward to rest his head between his knees. Remus hated to appear weak but he had to admit that he had always been somewhat weak stomached. And just the thought that Albus Dumbledore had known where Harry had been all this time and had the ability to stop Harry from going through years of multi-level abuse was just too much for him to process.

The ground beneath him swayed dangerously.

Remus was not fond of vulgarity. He had always thought that there were far better ways for people to express themselves than to swear. Many times he had told the marauders that if a man can't find a clean word to properly express himself, then he is not very imaginative or bright.

Apparently Remus was a bit dim at the moment.

With his head between his knees, Remus uttered a string of words so foul, a drunken sailor probably would have flinched. Dimly, he heard Sirius speaking in harsh tones.

"Is Dumbledore completely out of his mind? What does he think this is going to do to Harry when he finds out? This will destroy him!" Sirius demanded, banging his fist on the kitchen table so hard that the tea cups rattled noisily.

"I think the Headmaster is under the belief that Harry will never find out," answered Severus flatly, with no expression in his black eyes.

Remus sat up fast. "No, we are not keeping this from Harry. If we do, than we are no better than Dumbledore. We can't betray Harry's trust like that—it's already too fragile to begin with!"

Sirius stood up and began to pace the length of the kitchen. "I dunno if that is such a good idea, Remus."

"What? You can't be serious!" Remus uttered in disbelief. "What if Harry finds out that we kept this from him? We are trying to give Harry a better life and earn his trust—I think that would be completely ruined if we start keeping horrible secrets from him. He has a right to know."

"But what if we do tell him?" Sirius shot back. "He will never trust Dumbledore; this will make Harry feel as though 'the greatest wizard to ever live' meant for him to be mutilated all his life. Do we want him to think that?"

Remus back peddled. "Why do we care if he trusts Dumbledore?"

"Because Albus is the only one who knows the full extent of the prophecy and can keep Harry the safest from the Dark Lord in the future." Snape interrupted. "And none of us can disagree that Dumbledore is the only wizard the Dark Lord has ever feared."

"That's a lousy argument," Remus said between gritted teeth but couldn't offer anything better.

"But…it's plausible." Said Severus.

Sirius sat down again and his body seemed to deflate.

"I don't know what to do," he said weakly; he _accio-ed _a bottle of liquor, preparing to nurse away his troubles.

"This is so awful," Remus agreed, swallowing hard and trying to quell his churning stomach. "Things are getting so complicated."

"Well I hate to leave this pity party," stated Snape in a sneering voice. "But I have important things to attend to. I will let you two dogs fight it out." With that, the Potion's Master stood swiftly, throwing his cloak about his shoulders.

"Severus," Remus said haltingly, making the other man pause for a moment. "Thank you…for telling us…I mean…"

Severus looked at the werewolf darkly for several long seconds before turning away without a single word and walked stiffly from the kitchen. A moment later they heard the _whoosh!_ of the fireplace coming to life and then silence.

"This is so fucked up," Sirius muttered, clenching his bottle of firewhiskey in his fist. He hadn't even popped the top yet. "This is just _so_ fucked up."

Remus completely agreed.

_***Harry_

The next morning, Harry awoke with a start.

_**_ Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The lightning shaped scar on his forehead was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin.

He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty white light that was filtering through the curtains from the moon in the sky.

Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened the fancy wardrobe in the corner, and peered into the mirror on the inside of the door. A skinny boy, pale boy looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled under his untidy black hair. He examined the lightning bolt-scar of his reflection more closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging.

Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so real…There had been three people in a sitting room…He concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember….

The dim picture of a darkened room came to him….There had been a snake on a hearth rug…a tall man with dark, greasy hair…and a cold high voice that sent chills snaking down his spine. He couldn't remember ever hearing that voice before but something about it still made him feel as though it were familiar. Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach….

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what the owner of the cold voice looked like, but it was impossible….All Harry knew was that at the moment when the revolving chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him…or had that been the pain in his scar.

And who had the old man been? For there had definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them….The two men had been talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name….and they had been plotting to kill someone else…_him! **_

Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there. But everything seemed to be as it should. Hobbs lay curled up on his bed, eyeing him sleepily and his pygmy puff snored in its hutch in the corner.

What a strange dream.

His scar gave another twinge of pain and he winced again, steadying himself with his wardrobe. He was confused. His scar had never hurt him before. Maybe scars just act up every now and then, Harry reasoned.

A knock on the door made him start and Harry tried to relax his face. "Yeah?"

Sirius entered with a half-smile on his face, but it seemed wrong, like his godfather was forcing it. Harry felt himself grow nervous. Had he done something wrong?

"Hey kiddo, how'd you sleep?" asked the tall man as he plopped down on Harry's bed.

"Fine," said Harry.

"Good, good." Sirius ran a hand through his jet-black hair, looking uneasy.

Harry fidgeted, masking another wince as his scar gave a nasty twinge. What had happened between last night when Harry had been sent up stairs to now that had Sirius looking like that? Was it something Professor Snape had said? Was it something about Harry?

"Tomorrow, we have to go to Diagon Alley for your school supplies and get you fitted for your robes. Is that okay?" Sirius asked finally though Harry was sure that that wasn't what occupied the animagus' mind.

But Harry nodded anyway. Sirius studied him for a moment when his brow suddenly furrowed in concern.

"Hey, you look peaky. Is something wrong?" Sirius asked with a frown.

Harry shrugged and absentmindedly rubbed his forehead. Sirius' eyes followed the movement and Harry quickly dropped his hand, staring back at his godfather with what he hoped was a clueless face. If Harry wasn't mistaken, Sirius' face suddenly turned paler.

"Is your scar hurting you, Harry?" Sirius stood up fast and moved jerkily towards Harry who took a startled step back. "Is it?"

Harry was startled by Sirius' reaction. "It's nothing," Harry lied quickly. "Old scars hurt sometimes, don't they?"

"Don't they?" Sirius repeated in a vague voice.

"I had this weird dream," continued Harry. "And I woke up and it hurt."

Sirius blinked fast as he processed this information.

"It's nothing," Harry repeated.

Sirius said nothing. He seemed to be thinking through a lot of things all at once.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"What was the dream about, Harry?" asked Sirius in a hoarse voice.

"Uh…" Harry hesitated. He didn't really like the way Sirius was reacting to his scar hurting or the fact he had a weird dream. What would happen if Harry said that in his dream, someone was plotting to kill him? It was just a dream, nothing more. Wasn't it?

"I don't remember," Harry finally said. "It's all fuzzy now, I guess. Why? It was just a dream."

Sirius nodded faintly. "You're right. Just a dream."

Harry swallowed and drew in a deep breath, "Am I in trouble?"

"Oh merlin, no Harry, you're fine." Sirius assured quickly. "I'm just surprised is all. And you're right, old scars act up sometimes. It's just an off day for me—didn't sleep well. Come 'ere."

Harry only hesitated briefly before letting his guardian pull him into a tight hug.

"Just promise me you'll tell me if your scar hurts again, eh?" Sirius spoke into Harry's untidy hair.

Harry nodded against Sirius' chest. When they pulled apart, Sirius continued to hold Harry at arm's length.

"I'm proud of you, Harry. I know it's scary going to new place, with a whole new set of rules but I'm glad you're giving Hogwarts a chance. I know it's a big step for you." Sirius chucked Harry under the chin and smiled gently. "I am _so _proud of you. And I know James and Lily would be too."

Harry looked up at his godfather and saw that Sirius' smile was warm and sincere. It gave Harry an odd sort of warmth within, like he had just stepped in front of a fireplace after standing outside in the dead of winter for too long.

"You believe me, don't you?" implored the man.

Harry nodded faintly, feeling a burning sensation behind his eyes.

"You're going to do great things, Harry. I just know it. I know you've been through some pretty shitty stuff but when I look at you, that's not what I see. _I _see a strong young man who can rise above and one day you are going to be the greatest wizard there ever was. Better than me or Remus—and not just because of your magic, but because you are _you._" Sirius' smile grew bigger and he didn't look so bothered as he did earlier. His piercing blue eyes held Harry's brilliant green ones and suddenly it was like someone had pulled out a humungous splinter that had been buried under his skin for too long. The release was painful but the relief was almost instantaneous. Though it left behind an ugly wound, the option to start healing was available for the first time.

"Come on, kiddo," Sirius interrupted Harry's revelations. "I think another hug is in order but we can't tell anyone we've hugged this much—it'll ruin my reputation of being a tough guy." Harry could tell his guardian was joking and obliged him with another hug. He didn't even flinch this time.

"There are people who believe in you, Harry. You might not always believe that yourself, but there are—you're parents, you're professors, Remus, me. I know that no matter what is thrown at you, you'll recover amazingly." Sirius he carded his hand through Harry's mop of hair.

Harry's breathing hitched slightly.

Harry had lived the first twelve years of his life surrounded by people who didn't believe in him. They may have stunted his growth or knocked him down a hundred pegs or so, but they couldn't erase the fact that he was something much more than they believed. Every time they told him he was nothing, they simply made it that much more difficult for him to believe he _was_ something. But once the darkness of their influence and attitude was removed from his life, Harry truly began to understand that he was much more than he had ever thought. And part of the reason he felt like he did now was because of Sirius and Remus.

And in a world where everything was wrong, it was nice to feel right, even if just a moment.

_We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on. –Albus Dumbledore, _The Half-Blood Prince.

_**Excerpt taken from The Goblet of Fire, chapter 2, pages 16-17**_

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I just have a few notes: as I have mentioned before, I've been really struggling with this story. I know where I'm going with it, I just have to figure out how to get there. I've reread my story several times and I have decided that I might start revisiting the chapters to tweak, edit, and even change some bits. Some of it just read goofy to me and I had intended to make Harry a bit darker than I've been writing him. I've asked several people to be my beta but they either dropped off planet earth after agreeing or just never answered back. If anyone feels they are up to the challenge, then tell me! I need someone to correct errors, offer ideas or changes, and push me forward to keep me going. Overall, I'm happy with this chapter and I hope you all are too so review so I'll know! **

**Also, keep an eye out for changes I'm going to start making a chapter at a time. If you disagree with this decision then don't be afraid to speak up==but please, I don't want to be criticized without an explanation. R&R**

**Until next time and Happy Literacy,**

**Story2Tell**


	14. Here's a note worth reading

Hello all my lovely people! I just wanted to inform you that I have replaced chapter one with a totally awesome, revamped one and I urge you to read it and perhaps review if you'd like. I have realized that the reason I've been having trouble with writing each chapter was that I started this story a ooonnnggg time ago and when I went off to boot camp it was put on hiatus and then I went to A school and then C school-well, the point I'm trying to make is that I've grown a lot and my writing has improved (at least I think it has) so I'm just going back over the chapters and 'revamping' them so I can get back on track and hopefully finish this story by the end of the summer. I have inquired a beta and she is awesome. I am still working on new chapters and I'm alternating back and forth until the old chapters are updated. So don't worry about the story not continuing for a while cuz I'm nearly done with chapter 14.

And another note, I had meant for this story to be darker than what I was writing it as. So WARNING to all you people who do not like dark stuff. I definitely still keeping the main elements and themes to the story, nothing big is going to change—I'm just making it a hell of a lot better. So PLEASE go back and read it—I think it turned really good and I would LOVE to hear feedback.

So be brave! Read it and good things will come to you! ;)


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